


Special

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Dacia Favourite, Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, POV Duo Maxwell, Sappy, Shounen-ai, by 0083
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 66,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by 0083--I want the whole package that Quatre keeps talking about. I want the thing that he has with Trowa, perhaps without all the sweetness, but still, I want something like that.I want to be special.--Dacia's note: this one is incomplete, but I loved it and the idea of it so much that I couldn't not put it up even though it will never be finished.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I am an appreciator of fine women and fine wines. I love them mellow and dark, beautiful and sultry, golden and sparkling. In laymen's terms, I am a player. The word itself comes with a whole slew of connotations, mostly negative, but I cannot deny what I am. I am quite famous for sleeping around among my friends, flitting from one lady to another without nary a thought to calling them afterwards. Of course, I'm that way with my wines as well, tasting and enjoying but never finishing the bottle.  
  
My best friend Quatre commented to me on one particular day that perhaps I'm looking for something in my endeavors. He hinted quite unsubtly that I must be looking for that someone who would fulfill my life in every way. I told him that he was being delusional and that I had no plans whatsoever to settle down with one person for the rest of my natural life.  
  
I realize Quatre means well, he always has, but he seems rather fixated on me getting myself into a 'real' relationship with someone. I think it has something to do with his unholy bliss with his current boyfriend Trowa. Granted, Trowa is a great guy who treats my best friend like the most special guy on earth, which he is by the way, and I've never seen Quatre happier. Things like that work for some people. I'm just not one of them.  
  
I know my friends fret and worry because they love me. They worry that I drink a little too much when we go out and start flirting with girls. They fret when I disappear from the bar because they know I've gone home with someone I had just met. But they need not worry for I am an adult, way beyond the age where I have to explain to my friends that I'm going home with someone. They worry, they fret, but in the end, there is no censure and for that, I'm eternally grateful to them.  
  
I'm not unhappy nor am I in the throes of ecstasy. Yet, I like the way I live, the way I interact with people. There are those who call me unpleasant names, mostly girls who I forget to call after a night of naked hormonal release, but overall, I'm well liked and I'm friendly. I work hard at my job, excel quite well within my department, have a lively social life and friends who would lay down their bare bodies in front of a moving truck if I asked it of them. There isn't much more in life that I really want.  
  
That was the truth for a long time and it still should be, but I surprise myself sometimes. Incredibly, as I was driving down a highway on my way to shop for some much wanted computer parts with Quatre, I blurted out something that I still can't figure out.  
  
I told Quatre in a mild tone that I wanted to be special.  
  
He puzzled over that for a moment, his aqua eyes looking over at my profile with a speculative gleam. He asked me if that meant I wanted to find someone with whom I wanted a relationship. There was a silly amount of hope in his voice so I merely shrugged and let it drop. Thankfully, he did not question me further and we went on our shopping spree without any more words on that weird topic.  
  
Later though, when I was by myself and could think on it without being discovered, I realized that what I said had not been wrong or odd at all. Without realizing, I had wanted something more than what I had now. I can get any girl at any time and that is the truth without conceit. My body is what girls term as 'incredibly hot' and my violet eyes seem to draw them in like flies. They love my long hair, cooing over it and stroking it, amazed by the fact that it's longer than theirs by far. I have received compliments about my hair from girls that ranged from flattering to downright embarrassing, but the universal truth of the matter was that they loved it.  
  
My looks never fail to attract the girls on the first glance, but it is my wonderfully flirty personality that keeps them hooked long after I've forgotten their names. I'm easy to talk to, my personality is just outrageous enough to intrigue rather than scare, I can talk about most anything since my brain runs at a phenomenal pace and I'm generally nice. It's no wonder than women are so damned easy for me and I can have my pick of them even if I leave them as soon as I'm done screwing them through the mattress.  
  
So isn't it a surprise that a boy like me wants to be special?  
  
Now, what do I mean by that? Well, I guess I want to be someone's number one. Not just an attractive guy you can fuck, not just a guy you can talk to, but a special someone who makes your heart do the Irish jig on double time. I don't mean the way your heart flutters when you see someone really hot or when a girl you had a crush on for years starts talking to you. No, what I mean is the kind that happens each and every time you see that person, without fail, for a long time. Maybe even forever.  
  
More than that, I want someone to be special to me. I want someone I can look at in the morning and smile gently. I want to appreciate their strengths and help them through their weaknesses.  
  
I want the whole package that Quatre keeps talking about. I want the thing that he has with Trowa, perhaps without all the sweetness, but still, I want something like that.  
  
I want to be special.  
  
What that is exactly, I still don't know, but I do have a general idea of it.  
  
To whom, I just don't know yet.  
  
So it is with this in mind that I, Duo Maxwell the self proclaimed player, will go forth in search to be special.


	2. The First Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

As easy as it is to say I want to be special, the whole activity of going about being special is damned hard. For example, I had no idea where to begin my search and I was rather reluctant to ask my friends for advice. If Quatre, or for that matter, any of my friends, found out about my newly formed quest, they would pounce on me like a pack of rabid wolves on raw meat with indispensable words of wisdom. It is not that I mind advice from my friends, not at all. However, certain things in life must be achieved by oneself and I believe that my search is personal enough to merit privacy.  
  
Still, it would be easier if I knew how to begin. I know what kind of girls I like, but I'm not sure if I'm going to find a means to be special with any of them. So far, dating the girls I liked had not given me any results and there is no guarantee that continuing in my habits and usual tastes will show me something I had not noticed before I got insane about being special. Then the logical conclusion, of course, would be to stray from my well-trodden path, but as I am now, I don't even know if there are other viable paths ahead of me.  
  
Losing hope before starting a quest is not a very good way of going about things.  
  
My first week of searching yielded no concrete results, but I did learn something. I don't think any of the girls I talked to would be able to give me what I'm seeking, no more than I can give them what they want. It seems that at my age, women think about two things when it comes to relationships one night stand or marriage forever. There is no middle ground for me to work with and I'm no longer interested in a strictly one night stand type of relations. That does not mean I want to do the marriage thing. Despite my strange quest driving me onward to god knows what, I have not completely lost my sanity.  
  
Second week came and went with no visible results as well, just a whole string of women I considered then discarded. Oh, they were all beautiful, sparkling, smart and a whole dictionary full of positive adjectives, but I did not want to wake up next to them in the morning. I certainly did not want to spend idle time with them. I didn't want anything from them except the sex.  
  
It is very discouraging that I am turning down sex in my search to be special. I suppose this must be important to me if I'm actually turning myself away from easy sex in favor of finding someone special.  
  
Third week, my friends noticed the change in me and began staring at me oddly. I think Quatre nearly spat out his drink at the bar when I turned down an overt invitation of sex from a really gorgeous girl. He stared at me with his eyes as wide as they would go and Trowa immediately checked my forehead to see if I was sick. They didn't ask me anything that night, but I could tell that the questions were burning a large hole in their brains.  
  
When fourth week rolled around, my friends must have had enough because they sat me down and began their friendly interrogation. Quatre had invited me over for 'drinks' at his and Trowa's apartment late Friday night, insisting that we stay in for the night. I agreed despite my misgivings since Quatre seemed oddly spaced out lately. Then when I get there for a quiet night, I find Quatre and Trowa there with interrogator eyes trained on me even before I crossed the threshold into their apartment.  
  
I felt like a bug under a microscope. I sat on their couch with a nice two fingers of premium scotch, watching them watching me. It was enough to set me on edge and my brain went into overtime trying to find answers before they asked the questions.  
  
"Duo," Quatre began in what I termed his diplomat's voice, "what is going on with you?"  
  
Such a simple question, but it was loaded with deeper meaning. In that one question, I could hear 'are you having problems with your sex life' to 'god, I hope you don't have an incurable STD under that skin of yours.' Instead of answering the question in any meaningful way, I decide to play dumb.  
  
"What do you mean? I'm fine."  
  
That was the complete truth. I am fine. I'm just in the middle of a large project, that's all.  
  
I could tell the answer troubled the two of them because they exchange one of those looks loaded with meaning. They were probably wondering how to phrase the next question without offending me or hurting my feelings. After all, how do you ask your friend why he's not sleeping with everything under the sun as he usually does? How do you ask your best friend why he is not the player that he was? How do you ask your friend about the changes in his habits when you actually approve of them?  
  
Eventually, the silence wore thin and I was tempted to just blurt out my whole mission so that they would stop worrying. But alas, Quatre beat me to breaking the silence.  
  
"Duo, don't take this the wrong way," he said, "but you aren't.. acting yourself lately."  
  
That much is true, I must concede. I nod in acquiescence, but offer no further information. Quatre was getting annoyed, I could tell, because I'm quite verbal most of the times to the point of banal babbling. Yet here I was, not saying much at all, practically making Quatre pull the answers out of me with force.  
  
Trowa raised an eyebrow at my continued silence and he considered me carefully. He knew I was hiding something, how could he not? But he wasn't about to go charging in with questions. It is too bad that Quatre had no such reservations.  
  
"Stop playing around, Duo. I'm just really worried. What's gotten into you?"  
  
Damn. Quatre used the guilt card, the cheat. Now I have to answer or end up feeling like I had kicked his puppy or something.  
  
"Don't worry, Quat. I'm a big boy. I know what I'm doing."  
  
Well, actually, I haven't the faintest idea as to what I'm doing. I only know the goal, not the means to get there.  
  
"What is it that you're doing? For the life of me, I can't figure it out."  
  
If Quatre wants to, he can make a guy feel really, really guilty. When he uttered that sentence with worry imbedded so deeply within, I could not help but answer before I had time to process what I wanted to say.  
  
"I'm looking for someone special, that's all."  
  
That silly saying about the cat being out of the bag, I never did understand what it meant. But I suppose that's what I had just done with that reply.  
  
The answer I gave was received with mental fanfare by Quatre and Trowa. How could I tell? Because their eyes lit up like lanterns and they both got this huge grin on their faces. Even Trowa. Yeah, it's a big deal when Trowa makes a facial expression beyond bland.  
  
"Oh, that's wonderful Duo! We can set you up with the nicest.."  
  
That's as far as Quatre got before I clapped a hand over his mouth, my eyes blazing 'don't go there' in neon lights. As I said before, this is a private matter to be dealt with by me only.  
  
"Mmphrmph.." Quatre finished over my hand anyway.  
  
Translation: I have this cousin who'd love to meet you, my neighbor is the sweetest little thing, my sister's roommate's brother's friend's cousin is so very nice.  
  
Yeah, things get complicated when your friends who are already itching to make you settle down gets a whiff of your future plans to settle down.  
  
It is safe to say that I tucked tail and ran out of their apartment quickly after that. I was not in the mood to sit there while they congratulated me on my decision to find someone special, to find someone who thought I was special. Not that I didn't appreciate their support, but I really didn't need Quatre going matchmaker on me and pulling out every female he has ever known, convinced that each and every one of them was perfect for my needs. God, no.  
  
So yes, I ran. They didn't follow, thankfully, but then again, they understand my needs. For tonight, Quatre would leave me alone, knowing that I had said something to them that I had meant to keep to myself. Tomorrow, though.. Maybe I should just sleep through tomorrow.  
  
And how does one sleep through an entire day? Easily. One, it's Friday night so tomorrow is a blissfully calm Saturday. No need to wake at all. Two, I spy a bar.  
  
Alcohol plus a Saturday bonus equals sleeping an entire day.  
  
That was my brilliant plan for avoiding Quatre the next day. So I went to my regular bar, the Tornado Fodder, named after the fate of the owner's house in Florida, with every intention of getting hammered to the point where I would skip Saturday and head straight into Sunday.  
  
Believe me, I didn't even have an ulterior motive of wanting to meet girls in my quest either. I just wanted to drink and go home to pass out. I did see a couple of cute ones batting their eyes at me and I bought them drinks out of habit, flirting for all I was worth, but nothing serious was flitting through my mind. I was drinking for the sake of drinking then something odd happened.  
  
I was standing at the bar, trying to flag down the busy bartender for a refill on my drink since I wasn't nearly drunk enough, when a solid mass crashed into me and pitched me forward. It was a resounding kind of crash where I ended up with my face nearly planted on the bar among the lime rinds and the empty glasses. Also, the crashed caused the not very sober chick next to me to spill her drink all over me. It just had to be a strawberry margarita, all sweet, sticky and impossible to ignore.  
  
"I'm so sorry!"  
  
The girl squealed at me, trying with her hands to wipe away the damage but it was too late. I was soaking wet, definitely unhappy and she was putting her hands where I did not want them. I waved her off, thoroughly pissed, to whoever behind me that had crashed into me. From the crash to the girl's apology to my whirling around in a frenzy took all of five seconds but my reaction as soon as I turned to the guy who had crashed into me lasted significantly longer.  
  
Imagine this scene for a second. One: Duo Maxwell, slightly tipsy, wearing his nice polo shirt and black pants which in turn are wearing a strawberry margarita. Two: a solidly built guy about my age and height with Prussian blue eyes and a mop of dark brown hair staring back rather impassively at me. Three: Instant, carnal attraction on my part.  
  
Step three involved me staring at the guy with mouth gaping open and it lasted, oh I'd say, about twenty seconds before I realized what I was doing and where I was.  
  
That's when my brain finally caught up and said 'you're attracted to a guy!' really loudly in a shocked tone.  
  
Let's just say it's not every day that Duo Maxwell runs away with his tail tucked behind his ass twice in one night.  
  
When I got home, three things occurred to me. First, I may not be as straight as I originally thought. Two, the guy was really hot. Three, I had no earthly clue who the hell he was.  
  
Oh shit. On all three counts.


	3. The Second Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I woke up on Saturday. About two in the afternoon, but still, it was Saturday which I had meant to sleep through. At least I wasn't hung over, but then last night came crashing down on my head like a ton of bricks.  
  
I had been attracted to a guy. Granted, he was a great looking guy, but still, the operative word was guy. Man. External organs. Male.  
  
I was speechless, both verbally and mentally for about four hours after that initial thought upon awakening. There was a mantra in my head, yes, but it was just 'ohgodohgod' repeated about nine thousand times. Not productive nor conducive to anything remotely resembling a thought.  
  
Then as I anticipated the night before, there was a knock on my door. It was Quatre and Trowa of course since they knew that if they had called, I would not have answered. I could just pretend I wasn't home, but I swear, those two would stand outside my apartment door until I opened it. Resigning myself to their questions and inevitable advice, I opened the door.  
  
"Duo! You look.. like you've been run over by a bus! Are you okay?"  
  
Quatre changed from interrogator to mother hen in a space of a nanosecond when he saw how tired and traumatized I looked. I suppose I do look terrible. After all, last night had been filled with revelations that I had not been expecting.  
  
Trowa followed Quatre in, both of them bustling me back into my home and setting me down on my sofa. They looked at me intently then Trowa went into my kitchen to get me a glass of water. When he handed it to me, I drained it in two gulps. In my shock and non-thought phase, I had forgotten to drink or eat.  
  
"What in the world happened? Did you go out last night by yourself?"  
  
There was a bit of admonition in Quatre's voice and more than that in Trowa's eyes. They did not like me going out by myself to bars because they knew I had a terrible habit of drinking myself into senseless oblivion without one of them to watch my back. I could almost see the disappointment running through them, so before they got even more depressed on my behalf, I interceded.  
  
"I did, but I didn't get drunk. I actually got home before one."  
  
That raised some eyebrows. Yeah, my friends know me too well. I would never, ever come home before four in the morning if I went out alone because I would have gone home with some hot girl and banged her for all I was worth. That reminded me once again of my interesting sexuality dilemma and I blanked out from the shock of it.  
  
"What happened then? You look really awful."  
  
I turned my slightly glazed eyes over to Quatre, but I couldn't get my voice to work. I had no idea what to tell them, really. And I figure, if anyone would understand male attraction to other males, it would be these two. Still, I could not find a way to say I, the ladies' man, found a man attractive in a very sexual way.  
  
"I.. uh. Hmm.."  
  
Normally, I'm chatty. So my three monosyllabic utterances were completely out of character. They knew this and if it was even possible, they became even more concerned. I could see the scenarios running through their heads, every one more horrible than their last thought because I was notorious for having a thick skin. What could traumatize me to the point of speechless shock?  
  
I know what it is, but I'm not going to enlighten them. Hell, I'm having a hard time as is trying to explain and justify it to myself right now.  
  
Quatre must have noticed that I wasn't about to volunteer information and being the good guy that he is, he decided not to push me. Instead, he offered me support with soothing words and a promise that I could talk to him about anything at all. Then my two best friends left, still worried and puzzled, but willing to let me muddle through this on my own before I reached out for their help.  
  
Saturday went by rather quickly after that since I decided being spaced out was not a good way to spend time. Instead, I buried myself in my work, putting in extra effort and time into things I could have done in my sleep. I was actually trying to avoid thinking about the whole fiasco the night before, but I didn't admit that to myself until I was burning the midnight oil well past midnight.  
  
You would think a guy like me who has more than enough words and arguments in his head most of the times would be able to rationalize myself out of this strange circumstance, but I couldn't. That frustrated me. I argue for a living, most of the time quite successfully and I couldn't argue to myself why I should or even should not have been attracted to a guy. I found myself unable to convince myself that I was straight, gay or bi. That's right, at the ripe age of twenty something or other, I have come to the crossroads of 'what is my sexuality' without finding an answer.  
  
I wondered then if this new development would complicate my mission to be special.  
  
However, one thing was for certain. I do not do well when I don't have all the facts call it a side effect of my job. Facts lead to presumptions, presumptions lead to reasonable doubt, so forth and so on. I need the facts.  
  
I needed to see that guy again and reassess what happened without turning into a staring, gaping aquatic creature.  
  
I grabbed my coat and ran out the door. Tornado Fodder was calling me.  
  
It was a perfect plan too. I would get there, casually talk to the bartenders about the guy, find out who he was, et cetera, et cetera. I would put to use all my resources I have at disposal to my advantage. I would treat it like work I'm interviewing clients or witnesses to get to the bottom of my core argument. In case you were wondering, my occupation is nothing more than to argue someone's innocence even if I don't believe it. Yes, a hated criminal defense attorney.  
  
But as all perfect plans go, mine fell apart. The first problem was that as soon as I got there, I ran into Quatre and Trowa. Second problem arose when I found myself unable to conduct my questioning with those two around. Perhaps the final straw was when I actually saw that guy again, across the bar, staring at me.  
  
To define staring. It is not a gaze filled with friendly intentions, nor is it a smoldering heated look designed to seduce. It does not fill one with the feelings of being wanted, loved or needed. Staring is uncomfortable, rude and quite frankly, nerve wracking on the party who is on the receiving end of it. He stared. I received it. I resented it.  
  
After a moment of uncomfortable reception, I abruptly turned away. I was feeling a bit.. undefined. There were many things running through my head, such as 'he's as hot as I remember' to 'gah, will he stop staring at me it's creepy.' Yet in the center of my thought maelstrom was the one need for me to actually talk to him at some point so that I could finally put my strange attraction to rest.  
  
Or set it on fire, who knows. I just needed all the facts to go forward or this would hinder my special mission to be special.  
  
When I'm in deep thought, I've been told that I get a slight crease between my eyebrows and that I chew on my knuckles lightly. That must have been what I was doing as I contemplated my fallen apart plan because Quatre shook be by my shoulders and asked me if I needed to go home to rest.  
  
Rest. Ha. It was nearly two in the morning and I had been working all day after I got over my emotional trauma. I didn't need to rest, I needed answers.  
  
"Quat, Tro, you guys go home. I have some business to take care of."  
  
"Business?" Surprisingly, it was Trowa who responded. "What kind of business can you have at two in the morning on a Saturday, I mean, Sunday night?"  
  
I tried not to get irritated, but I couldn't help the irrational surge of annoyance. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the guy moving towards me at a leisurely but a measured pace and I didn't want my friends around when he came. Some things had to be handled by myself without their supporting interference. Like this.  
  
Quatre caught on to my rising ire so he quickly said good bye and dragged Trowa off with him. I foresaw another day of questioning the next day, but thankfully, Monday would be just around the corner and I could duck them tomorrow until next weekend. Work, as much as I hate it sometimes, would save me from explaining my bizarre behavior for a whole week. I hope to have it figured out by then.  
  
As soon as Quatre and Trowa were gone, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I knew who it was, but I was still reluctant to turn around to face him. If anything, however, I am not a coward. Whatever confuses me, I must face straight on without faltering. Otherwise, the confusion would walk all over me and my pride would never let me live it down.  
  
I turned my head slightly and caught a glimpse of the guy's face once again. Prussian blue eyes. Or were they cobalt? The colors are similar enough and in this dim bar light accompanied by my severe lack of knowledge on color schemes, I couldn't really say. Whatever the color they were though, I admitted that they were beautiful.  
  
My body followed my head in turning and then I was facing him. I realized belatedly that he was standing rather close to me, a little too close since the bar was not as crowded as to warrant that type of close personal invasion. However, I let it slide in favor of dragging information out of this guy.  
  
"Hello."  
  
Deep voice. I like that.  
  
"I'm Heero."  
  
Succinct. I also like that.  
  
"How about some coffee?"  
  
Straight forward. Needless to say, I like.  
  
Too many things I liked about this guy and he has spoken three sets of sentences at me. And I haven't said a thing yet. Heero who wanted to have some coffee, I could tell that he would cause me trouble.  
  
Then again, I like trouble too, don't I.


	4. The Third Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

The coffee shop was an unassuming affair, just your regular twenty four hour shop with a disgruntled waitress and really awful coffee. It's rather interesting, really, that I'm at a completely innocuous space with a very.. not so innocuous person.  
  
Heero, he had said. That was his name, but besides that and the fact that he was definitely gorgeous, I knew nothing about this guy. After his invitation for coffee, we had walked to a nearby coffee house without passing another word to each other and had sat down. Now, half an hour and a cup of coffee later, we still hadn't said anything. That includes me I've not said a damn thing. And I was supposed to be questioning him, finding out about him so that I could get a decent night's rest.  
  
Instead, it's nearing three in the morning and I have clammed up like my lips had been crazy glued. No talking, so that meant that we just stared at each other. I assessed him and I'm sure he was doing the same to me. In the brighter light of the coffee house, I could see more of him and judge his outer appearance much better.  
  
He was definitely a good looking guy. Have I mentioned that already? Blue eyes the color of which I cannot quite define.. sharp, angular features.. a very toned body from what I see through his neutral beige shirt and khaki pants.. even though I was still unsure about my attraction to him, at least I could admit that I had good taste. Minutes kept passing by and I could not open my mouth to ask him the questions that I had planned so carefully. It seemed that he was not about to indulge me by telling me about himself either. The first lesson any attorney learns is that when there is nothing to talk about, one must still talk.  
  
If anything, I can do that.  
  
"So.. you want to know my name or what?"  
  
Perhaps that was not the best of openings of mine, but at least I had made a sentence. For some reason, it had disturbed me that he had not insisted on knowing my name as soon as he had introduced himself. Manners dictate that there must be an exchange of names for introductions to be complete and he hand not prompted that of me. It is true that I had not volunteered it like he had his name, but still, that justifies nothing.  
  
In case you didn't know, I'm babbling.  
  
Back to conversation at hand. Heero's face did this funny quirk when I asked him the question. He seemed to find it somewhat amusing, I suppose, since I had sounded a bit petulant. Even at my age, I can manage to sound like a child it seems.  
  
"Should I want to know your name?"  
  
The amusement was definitely present in his not very illuminating response, but I did not mind as much as I thought I would. It had been accompanied by this amazing smile so I could let the slight slide. I seem to let many things slide with him and I have known him for less than an hour. Strange, I know.  
  
"You should since you invited me out for coffee and all."  
  
He smiled again. The slight tilting at the corners, no teeth, lips thinning just a tad. It was amazing how a smile, a single smile, could make me feel like I could become a mellow puddle at his feet. At this guy's feet. Guy.  
  
Hence, my current problem and quest to find out what this attraction is all about.  
  
Heero, however, did not seem to be struggling with my dilemma. He's enjoying my confusion and attempts at conversation. I'm amusing him. I am not sure whether I should be flattered or annoyed.  
  
"True," Heero deigned to reply, "so, what is your name?"  
  
He asked, I should answer. But I suddenly had an urge to let him dangle, to let him wonder about something as simple as my given name. If I was having this conversation with a girl, we would be flirting outrageously and touching indecently. Unfortunately, this was a man before me and he seemed to be flirting with me when I had no such intentions.  
  
At least, I hope I didn't.  
  
"Don't feel like telling me your name?"  
  
He sounded mildly disappointed, but I don't know him that well so I could not just judge his tone. However, it did seem to me that his smile notched down several degrees and his eyes lost a bit of interest. I supposed he thought I was just a tease, which I am by the way since I was a well known player, but for some reason, it did not sit well with me in this instance.  
  
"It's not that," I tried to explain which I had never done, "it's just that well.. I'm not used to.. what I mean is.. oh hell, I'm Duo."  
  
His smile comes back full force and I am glad that it has. I smile back tentatively, not quite so brightly so that he does not get the wrong idea, but I'm pretty sure that it's a friendly smile, neither flirty nor formal. I hope he gets the idea that I will not, under any circumstance, go back to his place with him.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Duo. So.."  
  
And here it comes. The inevitable 'get to know you' spiel. I should know, I have done it a million times and never have paid attention to the answer. The question would range anywhere from 'what do you do for a living' to 'what is your favorite color.' Mundane stuff to make small talk until we jump into the sack. Heero here is gearing up to do the small talk so requisite in one night stands. It is rather too bad that there will be no sex after all his work at making conversation since after I'm done talking to him, I will be going home alone to ponder my new information.  
  
"So," Heero continues through my thought processes, "I'm not sure why you're here with me."  
  
That was not expected, but I can think quickly on my feet.  
  
"You invited me for coffee."  
  
"Yes, I know," he says, casually waving his right hand in a dismissive gesture, "but you should not have wanted to come. You don't seem to be the type to go for a guy."  
  
To say that I was surprised would be a tiny understatement. That was just too unexpected for me to say anything intelligent , so I opted for the puzzled look instead of a response.  
  
"What I'm saying is," he goes on, completely ignoring my confused face, "that you won't be sleeping with me tonight."  
  
Well, I did say that I liked straight forward, but this is a bit too much, even for me. He had read my mind like the proverbial prophet, right down to the last bit. I wonder if I let him continue to talk while I get dumbfounded more by the passing moment, if he will tell me what my motives were for coming out with him.  
  
Of course, he did not disappoint me.  
  
"You have questions for me, I think. So, what are they?"  
  
He said it so damned casually, as if this is the type of conversation he has with every guy he invites out to a coffee house. I was once again speechless because I had come out tonight with the purpose of dissecting him, but had somehow lost control of the situation.  
  
"You're very observant, aren't you."  
  
It was more accusatory than anything, but I could not help it. Usually, it is I who notices things before others and takes advantage. Yet, here I was, sitting across from my dilemma, steadily losing ground.  
  
"I've been told that, yes." Heero answered with yet another quirk of his lips. "And I think you wouldn't be so annoyed if I had acted clueless about your intentions."  
  
Whoever this Heero was, he certainly did know how to make a guy like me squirm. It was as if he had set me down on an interrogation table and turned the harsh light at me. Actually, I suppose that was what he was doing since his eyes are quite.. sharp.  
  
"Okay, fine," I concede with little grace, "I'm just here so I can find out who you are."  
  
It was not the whole truth, but it was not a lie. I am quite the talent for twisting words into truths without fully revealing the whole meaning.  
  
"You are more than welcome to find out about me. But I think you're uncomfortable that you're attracted to me."  
  
I can feel my left eye twitch and that only happens when I am truly annoyed. He read me like an open book, from my motives to my unwanted attraction to him. All in a space of less than an hour. I got the feeling that he could be laughing at me, but something deep in my heart told me that he was not the type to poke fun at strangers.  
  
"What gave you that idea?"  
  
It is imperative at this stage of the interview that I maintain some semblance of control and dignity. I will not let Heero know that he had read me correctly, for to admit it would be to lose the argument. Never concede, not even when you must.  
  
"Well," Heero drawled out, "I don't know. It seemed to me that you ran away a little too quickly last night. And you have been staring for the last half hour at me. Am I wrong?"  
  
How am I supposed to answer that without losing what is left of my tattered dignity? He has my eyes held tightly with his gaze right now, his blues staring straight into my undoubtedly shocked violets. Then I feel anger rising he must be toying with me. Yes, I did run away last night, but who in their decency points that out so damn bluntly? And sure, I have been staring, but he had been staring right back.  
  
"Forget it."  
  
I growled that out without my usual charm and got up from the table. I put down what I hoped was enough money to cover that horrid coffee I had drank and grabbed my coat. I had a sense of dignity, damn it and I did not need to sit and listen to the gorgeous but rude Heero mock me.  
  
I ignored him pretty thoroughly as I walked passed him to the door, opening it with a little more force than I should have. What had I been thinking? So I was attracted to a guy. What possessed me to seek him out? What had I expected, that he'd tell me that the attraction was normal, that it was a part of who I was to find men pretty, that what? What the hell had I been searching for?  
  
Of course, that's when I realized that I had no earthly clue as to why talking to Heero would have solved any of my problems. He did not have the answers as to why I reacted to him the way I had. He definitely could not tell me what my sexuality was. I must say I have been an idiot.  
  
I walked at a brusque pace through the nearly deserted streets, hurrying towards my apartment for some peace of mind. I had not accomplished anything with my impromptu mission for this night, but that was not a problem. I could most definitely solve this problem without Heero's help. Maybe it was time that I talked to Quatre and Trowa about my newly found confusion.  
  
I was so caught up in my seething self reprimands about the idiocy of the plan that when a hand grabbed my arm, I turned with my fist raised in automatic reflex to deck whoever it was that had dared to put their hand on me. Then I saw who it was that had stopped me and my fist lowered a fraction of an inch.  
  
"What do you want, now? Want to make fun of me some more?"  
  
At my miffed tone, Heero merely smiled. You know, the one that made me feel like a gooey puddle. Even as annoyed as I was at him, it still made something inside of me go soft and weak and I got angrier.  
  
"Wanna let go of me before I deck you?"  
  
It was not an empty threat. I am prone to violence once in a while when pushed to the limits and I know the law well so I can do what I wish without crossing the line. Heero must have caught on to the serious nature of my remark for he did let go.  
  
But then he grabbed my hand, uncurled my fist and shoved a piece of paper in it.  
  
"That's my phone number. Call me, Duo. I think we have potential."  
  
Then he walked off, leaving me to stare at him dumbly.


	5. The Fourth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I never did call Quatre or Trowa on Sunday. I should have since I was roiling in my own juices Heero really had made me angry. The nerve of that guy to make fun of me only to give me his number and then tell me that we had.. potential? What the hell?  
  
My ire traveled with me to work where I apparently proceeded to snap like a baby crocodile at everyone. My secretary started hiding from me on Tuesday and all the paralegals mysteriously disappeared when I entered the sector. My associates tread around me softly as if I would snap at one of them and take their heads off. Even the senior partners at the firm with reputations for being indomitable scurried off to their offices upon setting sights on me.  
  
Throughout it all, I grumbled and snarled, unable to believe the gall of Heero. When Quatre called me at my office to see if I was free for lunch, I yelled at him only to apologize a second later when I had realized what I had done. He asked me what was wrong, of course, but I found that I could not verbalize just what was running through my head.  
  
When Thursday rolled around, I was still scaring the wits out of everyone within fifty mile radius of me. In my current mood, had I asked a particularly intractable client for his crimes, I am quite sure he or she would have babbled out every bad thing they had done in their entire life time just to avoid me. Judges were afraid of me. I was turning into a veritable ogre and I did not mind. I was fine with being angry at Heero.  
  
Unfortunately, Thursday was my big day in court. Let me explain somewhat. It was the first day of trial for my big client, a rich boy who had been indicted for murder in the second degree for killing his fraternity brother. I had to perform well or I could very well end up getting him twenty years in a non-friendly state prison whose populace liked young, fresh meat.  
  
So Thursday, big day, still snarling. Perhaps that would work for a bench trial, but I had to face a jury today. They had to see that I was amicable, that I was completely friendly so that they would look at my client in a beatific light that he did not deserve. I spent an hour before trial doing breathing exercises, pushing Heero out of my system.  
  
I was all prepared to go into trial when the worst happened.  
  
"Duo. I didn't expect to see you here."  
  
Oh. Fuck. Not him.  
  
"Heero.."  
  
I turned and my nightmare came to life before my eyes. I was standing with my hand on the courtroom door I had nearly escaped. Then he had to somehow turn up.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
He sounded so.. happy to see me. Could he not see that I was getting nauseous just standing there? I was probably getting green around the edges. Not to mention, all the breathing exercises I had done for the past hour were becoming absolutely useless.  
  
"I'm doing my job."  
  
It was a snarl. I can see why my secretary squeaked and ran from me the other day since it was the same tone I had used when I told her that she had made a typo on page forty nine of the brief.  
  
"So you're an.."  
  
Heero stared at me, letting his eyes rake over my impeccably expensive suit, perfectly tied tie and shiny shoes. He apparently did not notice my temper rising. Or more likely, he noticed with his keen observation skills but decided to ignore it.  
  
"Attorney."  
  
He finished. Yes, I am an attorney, so what of it?  
  
And for that matter, what the hell was Heero doing in a court house?  
  
"Oh, if you're wondering, I'm Heero Yuy."  
  
I knew that already. He's really patronizing me this time. Wait.. Yuy.. Yuy.. I knew that name..  
  
Oh crap. Can my day get any worse?  
  
"Yuy," I say in a sickly tone, "as in Dr. Yuy.. my psychiatric expert.."  
  
"Oh. I suppose you're Mr. Maxwell, the attorney who hired me?"  
  
It would be undignified to throw up right now. I had to be in front of a judge and jury in.. right now.  
  
"I did not hire you, my firm did," was the best I could do as a reply before I whipped open the door and stalked into the courtroom.  
  
The first day of my big trial was a damn blur thanks to the distraction I encountered in the form of Heero Yuy. I made my opening statement after the prosecutor maligned my client with very negative words and then crossed the prosecution's witnesses brilliantly. I made objections when called for, made notes about the case and in general, just did a great job.  
  
Not that I remember a damn moment of it.  
  
When noon came around and the judge called for a lunch recess, I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Noon was when I was supposed to talk to Dr. Yuy to prep him for the witness stand. I had my secretary make an appointment with his secretary weeks ago.. just that who the hell would have thought that Dr. Yuy would be Heero?  
  
As soon as I entered the conference room set aside for such encounters, I found Heero sitting there, waiting for me. By this time, my sinking stomach had just packed up and had run away to Tahiti.  
  
"Duo.. I never did imagine that you'd be an attorney."  
  
Damn that smile.  
  
"Oh, why?" I reply in a surly tone, "because I have long hair?"  
  
"It is unusual for a man in your profession to have long hair.. but that's not what I meant."  
  
His tone was much too friendly and conciliatory for my tastes. This was business, not a damned social call.  
  
"Anyway, Dr. Yuy," I say, emphasizing the Doctor part, "I'm sorry we haven't met to discuss my client before, but we never seemed to have a meshing schedule. I must prep you in about two hours and then go back to trial. It is possible that you may not testify today since the prosecution is taking a long time with their witnesses."  
  
I am quite proud that I said all that in a completely professional tone. I avoided eye contact throughout, making quite a production out of opening my briefcase and taking out the relevant documents, shuffling them needlessly over and over again.  
  
"I understand the procedure, Duo. It is not my first time as an expert witness."  
  
I did not snarl at him this time. I had my professional mask on and I'd be damned if I broke it in front of Heero.  
  
"Then this should go quickly," I said, secretly thankful that I would not need to sit with him for two hours, "so let's begin."  
  
We discussed my client's mental health which Heero deduced to be somewhat unstable. We talked of how to phrase questions so that his answers would be most favorable to my client. We speculated on the types of questions the prosecution would ask him and formulated answers to go along with them. All in all, we talked about the client and our strategy in a very professional manner.  
  
Throughout our interview, I came to a couple of interesting conclusions. First thing, Heero is a damned smart guy, almost as brilliant as I am. He is well spoken, fluid without being wordy, succinct without being aloof. He would make an excellent expert witness and I had every hope of acquitting my stupid killer client with his help.  
  
Well, that and the fact the evidence was fairly weak.  
  
At the end of our discussion, I realized that I had not had lunch and I was back in court in ten minutes. Suffice to say, my ire towards Heero had cooled significantly during our two hours because he had been so utterly professional and dedicated. That merits high in my book. Then again, he had to go and ruin my revised opinion of him.  
  
"Why haven't you called?"  
  
Oh dear god in heaven, had he just asked me that? That is the question that almost every single girl I've taken out has asked me, usually followed by 'you insensitive jerk-off' or something to that effect.  
  
"Are you kidding me?"  
  
I hoped that I sounded as incredulous as I felt. Why in the world would I have called him? He had pissed me off so thoroughly that my entire firm thought that I was a walking bomb.  
  
"Not at all. I had hoped that we could talk some more."  
  
He sounded so calm and reasonable that it irked me more than it should have. What did he mean by that when all we did at the coffee shop was trade some observations, insults and barbs?  
  
"I do not want to talk to you. I don't want anything to do with you except in the courtroom, okay? And after that, I don't want to see you ever again."  
  
When I wish it, I can sound like a total soulless bastard. It works to get rid of unwanted female attention and stalkers off my back. Should I be surprised that it did not work on Heero? Most likely not.  
  
"You say that now," he says with that damnable smirk, "but you won't be saying it later. Don't be afraid of possibilities. Call me."  
  
At that moment, I wondered if I could kill him and stuff him under the conference table without anyone noticing. Really. He had the gall to tell me that I wanted contact with him? That I was afraid of him? I take back all the nice things I ever said about Heero, even the gorgeous guy part. He has crossed the line.  
  
"Don't hold your breath," I grate out through clenched teeth and this time, it is I who leave first. I hope he was gaping at me as I gaped at his retreating form that Saturday night.  
  
As I entered the courtroom once again, I made a conscious effort to keep Heero out of my mind and put back on my cool mask of professionalism. He would not ruin what I do best nor would he intrude into my thoughts. I was done with him after he testified.  
  
Unfortunately, the damn trial lasted two and a half weeks and during that time, I avoided Heero like the plague. I knew he was in the building, probably on the same floor as me, but I knew this court house so damn well that I could duck into wherever if I felt his presence coming close. It was a cowardly tactic, but I really couldn't think of anything else to do.  
  
I believe the day when I put him on the witness stand was one of the most courageous, if not the best, acting I have ever done in my entire life. I treated him with courtesy, respect and asked him questions in a calm and soothing tone. None of the anger or the sheer dislike for him came through at all. I must say though, throughout the direct examination, Heero did not even once hint that we had a whole load of icky between us. He was so damned professional that I was impressed by the whole performance.  
  
The trial did come to an end finally, my client was acquitted for which I am not entirely happy, and I was free of Heero. No more interaction with him. During the hellish two and a half weeks, I had gladly given up going to the Tornado Fodder, my favorite and most frequented bar, so that I would not run into him even by chance. I had avoided him thoroughly as possible in the court house. Quatre and Trowa thought I was losing some bolts in my brain when I suggested that we never go out again and stay in forever. All my sacrifices later, I would be free of him and it would all be worth it.  
  
I did mention Heero has a way of messing up all my plans, right? Why should this be any different?  
  
Two days after the jury verdict came in, it was a gray Friday. It seemed like rain but it didn't even sprinkle. That should have set me off that the day would not bode well. It was nearly the end of the work day and I had just called Quatre and Trowa to say we should go out. They had agreed readily, probably relieved that I was finally over my strange introverted phase. Despite my bad habits, I think it disturbed them that I had not gone to a single bar or club in two and a half weeks.  
  
I was getting my things together, whistling a happy little tune when there was a knock at my office door. My secretary had gone home early, I had insisted. She had put up with me for a while as an ogre so she definitely deserved it. So that meant any visitor would bypass the secretarial safety line and come straight to me.  
  
Foolishly, I said 'enter' without thinking about the implications.  
  
"Hey."  
  
I froze. Deer in headlights does not begin to describe me.  
  
"I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to see if you were free for the evening."  
  
Heero walked into my office, his nice shoes making shallow impressions in my nice carpet as he made his way towards my desk and me. I was still frozen, unable to say anything, forever paused in the motion of putting my laptop into my briefcase.  
  
"So, are you? Free for the evening?"  
  
He is damned persistent. More than I could ever dream of being. My voice decided to make an appearance at this point, but obviously, my brain had yet to catch up.  
  
"More or less. Just an evening out with friends."  
  
"More than free or less than free?"  
  
Here I stand, suffering from apoplexy, and Heero is trying to play word games with me. His blue eyes sparkled with a light as he spoke to me, practically daring me to do something foolish. Why won't this guy give up on me? I didn't think I had given much indication that I liked him in any way. Quite frankly, I seemed to remember running away from him every chance I had, making it known that I wanted nothing from him except a wide range of personal space. I really was ready to cast a pithy comment at him, designed to deflate the dancing lights in his eyes, to let him know on no uncertain terms just what I felt about him. I do surprise myself with my idiocy on some occasions and this was one of them.  
  
"You can come."  
  
Oh god. My brain really is on vacation.  
  
He smiles then. That beautiful one. It still made me feel light headed and fuzzy minded, the way he radiated contentment from that one lovely smile. In that space of time, I forgot that I disliked him intensely, that I did not ever want to see him again.  
  
It is during his amazing smile that I remember that I still have that piece of paper with his phone number on it. I never did throw it out.  
  
As we walk out of my office, I realize that I'm really in for it. Whatever that 'it' is, I hope that I'm prepared.


	6. The Fifth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Quatre and Trowa met us at the Five Pence, a small but tasteful bar filled with expensive liquor and imported beers. I was feeling a bit out of sorts and the fact that Heero Yuy was closely following me had a lot to do with my unusual feeling. As soon as I walked into the bar, I saw Quatre waving at me from a table in the corner. I waved back, admittedly not too enthusiastically, but I tried to put up a good front that no one would suspect anything was amiss.  
  
When I got to the table with Heero right behind me, I could see curiosity blazing out of my friends' eyes. Quatre looked at me expectantly, his right hand nearly extended in greeting to my new 'friend.'  
  
Without polite introductions which I was sure was the proper thing to do, I sat down across from Trowa and Heero slid into his seat next to me. Before I could say anything, Heero took command of the situation.  
  
"Hello. I'm Heero, an acquaintance of Duo's from work."  
  
Handshakes and names were exchanged shortly thereafter and I had to give Heero bonus points for his introduction. He had not presumed to introduce himself as something more than a mere acquaintance for which I was immensely glad. I was not yet ready to disclose to my friends exactly how I had come to meet Heero. He had rescued me from long explanations by his simple intro.  
  
"What do you do, Heero?" Quatre asked in a friendly tone. If anything, Quatre is a very polite and amiable guy who would do anything to make someone feel comfortable. I could have told him that he was wasting his efforts for it seemed to me that Heero was never uncomfortable in any situation.  
  
"I'm a psychiatrist. I was Duo's expert witness in the last trial."  
  
"Oh, that's wonderful," Quatre replied, "because I think Duo needs a psychiatrist! He has been acting abnormal lately."  
  
I must forgive Quatre because I have not told him why I have been abnormal lately. My best friends have not the faintest clue that the reason for my abnormality is sitting across from them, trying his hardest to contain a smirk. Of course Heero knows why I have been out of sorts, he is a damned shrink after all. No wonder he read me so well that first night we spoke I was probably giving off hints that a trained psychiatrist would have picked up on without even trying.  
  
Trowa looked at me with his left eyebrow slightly raised and I realized that I had been gripping the table with a white knuckled grip when Quatre had said that. I mentioned before that I'm pretty thick skinned and it takes a whole lot to make me come off my hinges. Well, I was coming off my hinges right now and Trowa had noticed. How to explain, how to get out of this situation before it got messier?  
  
I thank god daily for timely waitress service.  
  
Thankfully, the waitress broke up the awkward moment which I am sure was mostly in my mind since my friends seemed so oblivious. She was a cute woman, probably in her early twenties, brunette with a striking pair of.. eyes. I winked at her, made some flirty comments while ordering my drink and sent her off to get our drinks with a wide smile on her face. After that, I was feeling more or less back in my element when I met Heero's eyes and saw amusement and understanding in them.  
  
I really needed that drink.  
  
As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Trowa spoke to me in a low tone disguised as a whisper, but designed so that everyone at the table could hear.  
  
"I don't think you need a shrink, Duo," he said in his usual bland tone, "but it might help with your current.. project."  
  
Quatre just lit up at that one. If I didn't love these guys so much, I may have resorted to physical violence to make them shut up.  
  
"The project. How is that going, Duo? Find anyone yet?"  
  
I wonder if I'm blushing or just getting feverish. How could my best friends bring up something so personal in front of Heero? They had just met him for the love of god and here they were, divulging my innermost secret which I had accidentally blurted out to them.  
  
"Quat, Tro, do you guys mind not talking? That's really private, you know!"  
  
I sounded aghast, completely stricken. I suppose that it did put a damper on their efforts to gain amusement by embarrassing me and it made them feel somewhat bad.  
  
Well, good.  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence while my friends tried to find a different subject for conversation and Heero tried to look uninterested in their previous comment. I did not contribute towards diffusing the situation because I honestly had no idea what to say. Then my savior, the cute waitress, arrived with my and Heero's drinks.  
  
I grabbed at my lifeline with both hands, thanking the waitress more profusely than she was obviously used to, and got her to smile extremely flirty at me before she sauntered off. I took several gulps out of my martini, letting the coolness of vodka burn its way down my throat. It felt phenomenal and I felt as if I could last out the night.  
  
By that time, Trowa had come up with an acceptable topic of conversation and then we were all talking. We, Heero included, discussed the interesting yet inexplicable concept behind pro basketball, arguing the teams as if we owned them. We talked statistics, play off records, recent trends in drafting. It felt nice to talk of things as mundane yet fun as sports.  
  
Drinks came and went, I flirted some more with the waitress and ignored the strange way Heero kept looking at me. Quatre and Trowa laughed at my strange behavior that had pervaded my life in the recent past, throwing out silly theories as to why I had acted that way. They made me laugh with their alien abduction theory and Heero contributed some zany comments about hitherto unknown psychiatric problems that I could have been suffering.  
  
I hated to say it, but after the initial moment of introduction, I had a good time. Heero was a decent guy who knew a lot about everything, just like me. If I didn't dislike him so much, I think we could have been good friends, maybe even best of friends.  
  
But I will not forget that I do not like him.  
  
Some time during the night, Quatre brought up something that I had forgotten. Apparently, in my dizzying rally to forget entirely about Heero, I had forgotten a few other things as well, such as the party tomorrow night for our friend Wufei.  
  
"You forgot?" Quatre exclaimed when I admitted that I had, "you, Duo Maxwell, who lives with his palm pilot tattooed to his right arm, forgot about a party?"  
  
I chuckled in embarrassment for I had forgotten entirely. Trowa laid into me with his heavy gaze, telling me with a reprimanding gaze that I should not have needed a reminder.  
  
"Okay," I say before I can get even more guilt tripped by the two, "I'm sorry I forgot, but thanks for the reminder. I'll be there. Can't miss Wufei's debut."  
  
The three of us snicker at my comment while Heero looks on politely with a smidgen of confusion on his face. I realize that the joke is an inside one that could only be understood by those involved, but it was not my job to make him feel like he was included.  
  
So then why did I open my big mouth? I blame my fourth martini.  
  
"You see, Heero, Wufei's our friend who's finally coming back after his two years stint in China. We haven't seen him in a while and tomorrow's the welcome home party."  
  
"Oh," Heero replied quickly, "so why is it a debut?"  
  
The three of us busted out in laughter and somehow, in drunken unison, we answered him.  
  
"Because we're going to meet his wife!"  
  
I was laughing so hard by this time that I was gripping my stomach with my left hand while my right one was hitting Heero's shoulder. Quatre laughed right along with me, nearly falling into Trowa in his efforts to remain upright.  
  
"Why is it so funny that you'll meet his wife?"  
  
Heero still sounded puzzled, but I think I see amusement in his eyes now. He must have gathered from the way we were acting that Wufei's marriage was somehow a comical event, but as to why probably escaped him.  
  
"Because," Trowa replied since Quatre and I were still laughing, "Wufei hasn't met her yet either."  
  
If Heero thought we were a bunch of basketcases, he did not say. However, he did start laughing with us and it caught me off guard a bit. It was a generously rich sound, across between a rumble and a tenor, a deeply masculine sound that made my heart skip a small beat.  
  
First his looks, then his smile, now his laugh. They all appealed to me so much and I had to remind myself once again that I did not like Heero.  
  
Sometime after one, Quatre and Trowa excused themselves and went home, leaving me so very alone with Heero. They reminded me once again of the party and I was left to ponder if I should just go home too. I sneaked a glance at Heero through my martini glazed eyes, trying to think of a good excuse to go home instead of staying and talking.  
  
If Heero had been a normal person which I'm beginning seriously doubt, as soon as Quatre and Trowa left, he would have shifted his seat so that he'd be facing me. However, he still sat next to me, ignoring the perfectly empty sets of seats across from us. I would have moved if I could, but I was trapped by the wall and Heero.  
  
I had a feeling the wall might be easier to move at this point in time.  
  
"I like your friends. They are very laid back."  
  
I cannot fault him for liking my friends so I should not be rude to him.  
  
"They are great guys," I hear myself say, "and you won't find any better."  
  
Heero tilted his head and looked at me then. I mean, really looked at me, as in staring into my eyes with his lovely blues, focusing entirely on me and drowning out the surrounding environment with the intensity.  
  
"I like you too, you know. I just wish you would stop being afraid and give me a chance."  
  
"That does it! I'm leaving."  
  
I practically shoved Heero out of my way to get out of the corner. The world was slightly askew, but I managed to stay on my feet and toss down money on the table. This situation seemed an awful lot like the coffee house incident.  
  
This time, however, I did not get to make it out of the bar because Heero latched onto my arm with his surprising strong grip and forced me back down.  
  
"What is your goddamned problem?" I blurt out, trying my hardest not to start a fight in the middle of a bar.  
  
His eyes became a bit distant then, almost as if he was contemplating my question a little too closely. When they refocused on me, they seemed a bit shy, perhaps even a bit uncertain.  
  
"I don't know," Heero said quietly, "but I would like to find out. My policy is that I leave the straight men alone, but for some reason, I can't do that to you."  
  
That caught me off guard. In our short past, whenever Heero had spoken to me, he had been filled with a deep sense of confidence, as if he knew what I was thinking before I did. Not this time, though. This time, he sounded as uncertain as I felt. And yes, as afraid as I felt, too.  
  
That deflated my anger and annoyance, leaving me with a hollow feeling.  
  
"Only if you'd stop pestering me about having an 'us'.."  
  
I sounded absolutely defeated. Maybe I was.  
  
"You don't really hate me."  
  
I snort which I guess could mean anything, but he took that as an affirmative.  
  
"You are attracted to me."  
  
"That's your opinion," I ground out, never denying the fact.  
  
Heero opened his mouth for what I was sure would be a psychological analysis of my behavior, but I cut him off.  
  
"You know, Heero, it'd be damned nice if you stop being a psychiatrist for a moment. I can't deal with people analyzing every move I make, okay?"  
  
He did look contrite then.  
  
"I'm.. sorry."  
  
He apologized. And I knew without a doubt that he meant it. Now I felt like a nasty person for snapping at him.  
  
"Look," I say keeping the frustration out of my voice, "I know what it is like to have your job define how you interact with people. Hell, I do it a lot, too. Apology accepted. Just.. stop hitting on me, okay?"  
  
"I'll try," Heero replies, a small smile lighting his face, "but you interest me. I just want to get to know you."  
  
"Huh? Why?" was my intelligent answer. Why would anyone want to get to know someone who was not interested in them in the way they were interested? Why would Heero want to expend his time and efforts on getting to know me when I had told him that I wished no romantic involvement with him?  
  
"Because.." Here, Heero pauses for a moment as if to gather the proper words. I wonder what they are. Why do you want to know me, Heero?  
  
"Because," he finally says, "I think you're special."  
  
I think I stop breathing. I think my heart stops beating.  
  
I think I need another drink.


	7. The Sixth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I looked up blearily at the bedside clock and moaned piteously. It was nearly three in the afternoon and my head felt like it weighed a ton. I vaguely recalled nothing of what I had done the night before and nearly cringed at the blank scenes in my memory.  
  
I had gone on a crusade to get drunk after Heero had told me that I was special and I had succeeded beyond measure.  
  
After that momentous incident which seemed to be my last clear memory, the night faded out into a strangely dark hum, images passing through my head in a fast blur. What had I done last night? How did I get home? For that matter, what had Heero done?  
  
I moan some more as I drag my sorry carcass out of my bed, crawling across my queen sized mattress towards the bathroom. I'm still in the clothes I was in last night minus my tie, suit jacket and shoes. I grimaced, I think, because it is hell to get wrinkles out of Armani and it was going to cost me a fortune in dry cleaning.  
  
My mouth felt like cotton balls wrapped around sulfur and I had an intense need to brush my teeth thoroughly. Then take a shower, take some aspirin, drink a whole hell of water. After I was done with those necessities, I would sit down and think about what I had done last night.  
  
I was nearly at the bathroom, shuffling through my bedroom door in uneven gait when a voice startled me to death.  
  
"Are you feeling okay?"  
  
I whipped my head around towards the voice and found out the hard way just how hung over I really was. The world wobbled, my eyes watered and my stomach tried to crawl up my esophagus.  
  
I barely lurched into the bathroom in time to shove my head into the toilet for a nice round of heaving.  
  
Throwing up as the first activity of the day is not a good way to start the day, especially when Heero is standing over you with a very concerned air about him.  
  
When I finally finished emptying my already empty stomach, I slowly pivoted my head towards the figure looming over me with a certain sense of doom. I knew what I would see, I knew who was there, but the fact of the matter was, I was hoping that I was hallucinating.  
  
My hallucination dropped to his knees so that his face would be at my level and handed me a glass of water and some aspirins. In a daze, I took what was offered and swallowed the pills.  
  
"You look awful, Duo."  
  
That must be the understatement of the year. I knew for a fact that I was looking ghastly, my hair undone from its braid at various places, my eyes bloodshot and my face pale and sickly. Awful was a nice way of describing me at this moment.  
  
"Yeah, I know," I rasp out, "but thanks for pointing it out."  
  
Heero watched me with an equal mixture of amusement and concern as I crawled out of the bathroom. I mean that literally, by the way. Somehow, in that mode of movement, I made my way into my bedroom only to find that I could not possibly stand to get back into bed. I had given up on my ideas of showering, undressing or anything that needed more than two muscle groups at one time to do. I just wanted back into the warm cocoon of my bed so that I could suffer in comfort.  
  
It was rather sad that I could not crawl into my bed because it was too high.  
  
"Need help?" came the friendly suggestion from my emotional baggage named Heero. I nod, having given up on having any semblance of dignity in front of this man a while ago. With a gentle chuckle, he helped me into my bed and even pulled the covers to my neck, nearly tucking me in like a child. Had I the energy, I might have been embarrassed.  
  
I passed out again, I believe, because the next thing I saw was the clock blinking six in the evening. By that time, my hangover had receded to respectable levels and my stomach seemed ready to accept food rather than eject everything that came within its vicinity. I was a bit thirsty, but the headache was only a memory and I felt immensely better.  
  
Now, I could face the world.  
  
I stretched, wincing satisfactorily at the popping noises of my joints, and slid out of my bed in one fluid motion. I had approximately two hours to get ready for Wufei's party which I had not forgotten about in my drunken binge. Yawning hugely, I walked out to my kitchen, turned on the light and cued the coffee machine.  
  
"Finally up again, are you?"  
  
It shames me to admit that I had entirely forgotten that Heero had been there earlier to help me through my indignities. I had thought that perhaps I had dreamed the whole thing since I wasn't very coherent then anyway. But alas, that had not been a hallucination nor was this Heero lounging on my sofa with tousled hair and sleepy eyes.  
  
I froze in my tracks and just stared at him. He was in my living room for real, smiling at me. I think my nausea is making its comeback.  
  
"What.." I clear my throat and try again. "what are you doing here? Still?"  
  
He laughs at me and all I can do is stand there. I frantically began to run the night before in my head, but I was drawing too many blanks. Even this morning, or was it afternoon, when he had helped me was fuzzy enough that I couldn't recall all the details. Had Heero brought me home? Why had he stayed? I had too many questions which I obviously could not answer due to my alcohol induced amnesia.  
  
"I can't go home until you give me back my keys."  
  
His keys? I know I have this ludicrous expression on my face that must be screaming my confusion. I try to ask him what he meant, I really do, but my throat has closed up shop, leaving me to make choking noises.  
  
"What do you remember, Duo?"  
  
I think my facial expression tells him exactly what I remember. Absolutely nothing.  
  
"Okay, let me fill in some holes," Heero says without even a hint of malice or belittlement, "because you must be wondering."  
  
I wait expectantly, hoping that I had not done anything I would regret. Just behind that hope is my other hope that even if I did something I might regret, Heero would not tell me about it so that I could live on in ignorance.  
  
"You drank a lot yesterday. I don't think I've ever seen anyone drink that much and still manage to remain upright."  
  
Heero has this unusual expression on his face, something that seems to be awe and.. disbelief. Well, I am a big drinker and since I blacked out completely, I must have downed more martinis than humanly possible.  
  
"When the bar closed up," he continues, "you could hardly walk, so I helped you out."  
  
I just hope that I didn't sing.  
  
"You were singing."  
  
I come to the right conclusion that god hates me.  
  
"And you insisted that I was too drunk to drive."  
  
At least I had some sense left in my drunken body last night.  
  
"Although I kept telling you I hadn't driven."  
  
Can I feel any more like an idiot than I do now? If Heero continues, I am guaranteed that I will.  
  
"But you didn't believe me so.. you, um.. fished around in my pants pockets and took out my keys."  
  
I had done what to who and where? I, the guy who was in full on denial about being attracted to Heero Yuy, had shoved my hands into his pants?  
  
"Then you insisted that I walk you home because you had saved my life by taking the keys."  
  
Oh. Of course. I just had to be logical when drunk, didn't I.  
  
"You couldn't remember exactly where you lived, so we ended up walking for a while before you recalled that you lived two blocks from the bar."  
  
Heero still has that amused smile on his face, so I'm not sure if he's making this up or not. Oh hell, even if he was, who was I to argue? Then again, why would he make up something so ridiculous that I had to have done it?  
  
"When we got here, you had a bit of a problem with keeping things down.."  
  
Please tell me that I made it to a receptacle of some sort.  
  
"So we spent a good amount of time in your bathroom."  
  
I guess this morning's episode pales in comparison to what I did last night. I wonder if there is a level of mortification a human being can reach before they can literally die from it.  
  
"After, I helped you into bed, but I remembered that you still had my keys. I didn't want to go rummaging through your pockets so.. I just spent the night here."  
  
And so ended the extremely short summary of what I did and how Heero ended up at my place. Unfortunately, throughout the whole story, I could not find one bit where I could blame Heero for anything. He had not taken advantage of me when I was drunk. In fact, it had been I who had felt him up and invited him over to my place. I had deprived him of means of getting back to his own place by sleeping with my ass on his keys.  
  
Heero had been a great guy to me when he could have ditched me or.. well, anything.  
  
At this point, it would have been polite of me to thank him for his efforts on my behalf, but I couldn't get the words to form. Instead, I went to my coffee machine and poured out two neat mugs of very strong coffee and handed Heero one. He took it without a word, but I could tell that he didn't mind the coffee or my wordless thanks.  
  
We drank our coffees in silence for a while and I eventually made my way to the couch to sit next to Heero. There was more silence as we pretended to drink our coffees for a bit longer since we had long run out. Then I saw that it was a little past seven o'clock and I really had to get ready for the party. Yet, I had this strange feeling in my stomach nestled comfortably next to my nausea. I think I'll call that feeling reluctance.  
  
I didn't want him to leave for some reason.  
  
As soon as that thought popped into my head, I actually felt for the first time the metal digging into my derriere. They had to be Heero's keys, sandwiched between the couch and my ass in my back pocket. I should really give him his keys and send him on his way, but that reluctance in me refused to let me see him go.  
  
"So.." my voice punctured the silence, "do you want to go to Wufei's party and join in on the joke?"  
  
Heero's hand which had been taking his mug towards his lips paused momentarily before moving again when I asked. I don't think he expected me to say anything at all, especially not something that seemed remotely friendly. For that matter, I had not expected me to ask him out on something that could have been construed as a date. But I did and to my surprise, I was hoping that he'd say yes.  
  
"I.." Heero says, his tone carefully neutral, "I'd like to, very much."  
  
It was rather ridiculous how much my stomach fluttered with butterflies when I heard his response.  
  
"But," he continued, oblivious to the nervous butterflies playing the timpani in my tummy, "I can't."  
  
I felt tremendous disappointment when he finished, closely followed by an insane sense of rejection. After all, I should have been berating myself in the first place for inviting him out to spend time with me among my friends. I should have been reminding myself how much I did not appreciate his continued presence in my inner sanctum. I should have done so many things, but instead, I had asked him out and when he turned me down, I had felt disappointment that rivaled being stood up for my prom rather than the relief that should have been.  
  
What was wrong with me?  
  
"Oh," I say, covering up the strange emotions boiling in me, "okay, then. I thought I'd ask, you know, since you brought me home and took care of me, I felt kind of obligated and all.."  
  
I trailed off, knowing for a fact that I had not asked out of any type of obligation or duty. I think Heero knew that somewhere deep inside, but his face showed me just how.. hurt he was by my statement.  
  
I felt like a bastard.  
  
"I understand."  
  
I watched him set down his mug and stand without saying anything. I should have apologized, should have corrected my stupid declaration. But I didn't do anything, because.. because..  
  
Because I'm stupid.  
  
"I should get going," Heero says in a distant tone, "so can I have my keys please?"  
  
As I fish out his keys from my back pocket, I wonder how we had come to this. It had started with his humorously embarrassing account of my activities last night and we had settled into a nice, peaceful niche during out coffee. But now he was leaving, somehow hurt and saddened by me.  
  
And the worst part of it all was that I was finally beginning to own up to the fact that I liked him.  
  
He left without saying good-bye, leaving me sitting on my couch feeling like a complete ass. I sighed, but I had a party to go to. I couldn't mope around my apartment.  
  
So I shall go out, party with my friends, and when tomorrow came, I'd swallow my pride and my idiocy to apologize to Heero.  
  
I can only hope that he won't do to me what I did to him.


	8. The Seventh Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

If someone had told me a week ago that I would be at a party thrown in the honor of my friend with alcohol flowing like water, I would have said 'let the good times roll', not 'let me be the designated driver.'  
  
How times change.  
  
Wufei's party was a rollicking success, mostly because we were too busy laughing at him. His wife, a petite and charming lady with a vicious temper named Meiran, was a joy to meet, regaling us with the tale of how the two ended up married without having ever set eyes on each other while Wufei interjected with his objections.  
  
I don't know why, but I think those two were made for each other.  
  
I laughed a lot, drank little and tried my damnest to enjoy myself, but Heero kept popping into my thoughts. It did not help when Quatre asked me if Heero and I had a good time after they had left. I was forced to answer in the affirmative and grinned to hide the sick emotional roller coaster that question had caused. Shortly thereafter, Trowa had to go and ruin my short lived victory by asking about Heero as well. Then Wufei had joined in, wanting to know who this Heero was, how we had met, what kind of person he was, and so went on the line of questioning.  
  
I don't know how I answered all their questions without breaking down I so wanted to tell them about the turmoil within.  
  
But I wore a brave face and partied out with them, even playing my usual part of the flirty drunk when I did not drink much nor flirt with my usual flair. My heart was not in the party scene as much as I wanted to and I felt guilty for being such a stick in the mud at Wufei's party.  
  
The night wore on and my friends had a great time, trading stories and other silly anecdotes about what had occurred in the two years that we were apart. Wufei told us interesting stories about China, what he had felt in his native country, how embarrassed he had been that his language skills had been so poor and how he had accidentally pissed off a militia officer by hitting on his wife.  
  
Quatre and Trowa in turn told Wufei about the time I had gone dancing on a bar table, shaking my little booty at the passers-by and getting dollars shoved down my pants. In revenge, I told Wufei how he had missed out when I had walked in on them in the coat room of one of Quatre's sister's weddings.  
  
Even if it felt a bit forced, I did laugh, I did enjoy. But at the end of the night, walking home in the dark by myself, I had to admit that I wished for Heero's presence so he could have laughed with us.  
  
I checked my watch and saw it ticking away near four in the morning. I knew I should go home and sleep, but Heero's rejection and my intense need to apologize kept haunting me. I argued with myself for a while, trying to convince myself that calling Heero at this hour, even if it was in apology, would be in grave error.  
  
Somehow, I lost the argument with myself and found myself digging Heero's number out of my wallet. It was right next to my Mastercard slot, folded as neatly as the day I had put it there.  
  
Next came my cell phone and I stood in the middle of the street in the wee hours of the night, staring at the bright green display of my phone for a while. To call or not to call was not the question, but I still hesitated.  
  
In the end, I dialed in Heero's number and pushed send before I could chicken out.  
  
The phone rang and rang over the line and by the fifth ring, I should have hung up because who in their right mind would be up at this hour? I was probably disturbing his sleep, making him bury his head into the pillow to ignore the incessant ringing.  
  
My finger was on the 'end' button of my phone when there was a voice.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
It sounded amazingly awake, if a bit annoyed. I think that I had hoped he would not pick up so I could have left a message or something, but he had answered. I should speak, but as it seemed the case with Heero, my voice refused to cooperate.  
  
"Look," came the even more annoyed voice, "I don't know who you are, I don't recognize your number on my caller I.D., and it's four in the morning."  
  
"Uh.." was all I could manage. I worked desperately to untangle my tongue before Heero hung up on me.  
  
"Duo?"  
  
Now, how the hell had he recognized my voice from that one guttural sound? Or was it that he couldn't think of anyone who would have the balls to call him at this ungodly hour?  
  
"Yeah. Hi."  
  
Can I possibly say anything more inane?  
  
"It's late, Duo."  
  
Maybe it was the static on the line, but he sounded less than joyous to hear from me. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm just lucky he hasn't hung up on me yet.  
  
"I know, Heero," I say, my voice having made its come-back, "but I wanted to say that I was sorry, you know, for what happened earlier."  
  
Apologizing to him was easier than I had thought, maybe because I knew I had been dead wrong to have said those awful things to him. Once I said it though, I suddenly felt a hundred times better, almost as if my body recognized that I had done the right thing.  
  
"Oh. I see."  
  
That's not a bad response, really, considering that it is four in the morning and I had called right out of the blue after making him feel horrible. I did not expect more and now I was ready to call it a night. I had done what needed to be done.  
  
"So.. yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean the things I said. I hope we can talk when there's daylight out or something."  
  
There it was, my apology in full, my explanation and my expression of want. I had made no admission except the apology , of course, since I had no such courage to admit to Heero that I liked him.  
  
I had just barely admitted it to myself not too long ago anyway, and as they say, one step at a time.  
  
"Sorry to have disturbed you. I guess you want to go back to sleep now, so I'll just hang up, okay? Later, Heero."  
  
That, my friends, is a good, clean closing. Or it would have been if Heero had not responded.  
  
"I wasn't sleeping."  
  
I briefly wonder what he could have been doing at this hour if he was not asleep, but it passes in favor of being glad that I had not awoken him.  
  
"Apology accepted. Thank you."  
  
He is a generous guy, thanking me for an apology that he deserved. I feel a smile creeping onto my face.  
  
"And if you don't have anything better to do, I would like to see you. Right about now. Why wait for the daylight?"  
  
Had I been a lesser man, I would have said no. If I was still holding a grudge for his rejection earlier, I would have said no. But I wasn't any of those things.  
  
"Sure. Where?"  
  
It is amazing what a few sentences can do to mend things between people. In a space of a couple of minutes, Heero had gone from feeling less than charitable towards me to feeling as if he should see me immediately. I, in turn, had turned my emotional turmoil into something infinitely more pleasant. I am glad that I called.  
  
"Are you anywhere near that coffee shop we went to?"  
  
I know exactly where he is implying and I reply that yes, I am near that vicinity. To be honest, I was about fourteen blocks off, but that's near enough.  
  
"Then I'll see you there in fifteen minutes."  
  
He hung up without saying bye, but this time, I didn't mind. I would be seeing him shortly anyway and I realize that for the first time, the prospect of seeing Heero did not fill me with dread but with something else entirely.  
  
I won't say that I ran to that coffee house, but it was a near thing. When I got there, Heero wasn't there waiting for me, but I had made a fairly mad dash so it was excusable. I sat at the exact table we had sat in before and ordered some disgusting coffee from the same disgruntled waitress.  
  
I think when I checked my watch to see that I had been waiting for half an hour was about when I started feeling like I had been rejected for the second time.  
  
Am I the kind of guy who waits when someone isn't coming? Hell, no.  
  
I pushed myself away from the table, trying to ignore the bitter taste in my mouth which I knew was not the coffee. I had apologized and he had accepted. It had been Heero who had invited me out. Whatever I did earlier, I did not deserve to sit in a coffee house by myself at five in the morning.  
  
I was about to grab my coat to leave when the door opened and Heero walked in. He has impeccable timing.  
  
"I'm sorry I'm late."  
  
Tonight must be the designated night for apologies.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's okay."  
  
I don't forgive this easily usually, but the relief that overtook me when I saw him walking in spoke in my stead. I knew he wouldn't be as cruel or petty as to stand me up. Okay, I had doubts, but I'm sure if I search deep within my heart or whatever organ that is responsible for emotions, I would say that I knew he wouldn't let me sit here, waiting for him.  
  
Heero sat in the chair across from me and I made a smooth transition from grabbing my coat to a sitting position. He ordered a coffee, I ordered another, and we just looked at each other for a while.  
  
I do believe that I'm getting used to this kind of silent staring exchange with Heero.  
  
We didn't talk about anything earth shattering or anything intellectual. We just sat and made small talk, discussing such important affairs as the weather, the strange behavioral patterns of night shift waitresses and our favorite television shows.  
  
We talked for hours and if I was asked just what we had talked about, I might say that I don't clearly recall. But from what I remember, I found out he had a sense of humor that bordered on cynical and he found out that I had a penchant for dirty jokes. He told me of a time when he was in college and I told him an equally insane story about my life as a collegiate. We talked of so many things, but not once did I feel the uncomfortable nausea in my stomach.  
  
Some time during this long conversation, I began to feel a seeping warmth. I saw once again how attractive he was, but more than that, I saw how beautiful he was in more than just a purely physical sense. I think I finally saw what I was supposed to have seen all along.  
  
When we mutually decided that it was time to go, I realized that we had talked, I mean really talked, unhindered by such things as my doubts and confusion or his observations and analysis. We had talked as if we were friends, as if we were close. We had never noticed how time passed or that the waitress changed on us half way through. We hadn't seen how the lights changed outside or how the menu was changed from late night to breakfast.  
  
From the outside, our interaction may have looked like a quiet moment between two people, just talking and drinking coffee in the brightening dawn.  
  
From the inside, however, it was so much more than that.  
  
Outside the coffee shop as we parted ways, we did not hug. We did not even shake hands. Instead, we stood apart, stared at each other and smiled. We did it for a long while, almost long enough for others to notice, but we couldn't seem to stop.  
  
I am Duo Maxwell who has had countless sexual relations with god knows how many people, and that moment of non-touching and smiling was the most intimate moment of my life to date.  
  
Our eyes finally relinquished each other and we did eventually walk away, but there was no good-bye this time either. Instead of the trite farewell most people exchange, Heero opted to be different.  
  
"Duo Maxwell," he said as we got farther from each other, "I knew from the start that you were special. Do you believe me?"  
  
Then he turned a corner, disallowing me a turn to respond to him. Had he not turned, had he stood still for a moment, he might have heard that yes, I believe you.


	9. The Eighth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> who knows why i made duo so screwed in the head? but the fact is, i will make it right one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Have you ever had one of those weeks where work turns into a monster with large teeth and vicious claws that dig into you to eat you alive? If you have, you understand just about where I am.  
  
The talk, the look, the smile I had from Heero that early Sunday morning had given me an airy feeling of floating for all of Sunday. I had come into work on Monday with that same feeling, smiling like a loon and making my secretary worry that I was on some sort of hallucinogenic drug. I had sat down at my desk at seven in the morning on a Monday ,for the love of god, feeling happy.  
  
Then the world decided to conspire against me.  
  
First, there was a case that chose that exact time on a Monday to shed its skin from being moderately easy to next to impossible. Then there was the meeting on Tuesday that turned my working day from nine hours of purgatory to fourteen hours of unadulterated hell. Hell, it seems, does exist on earth and I am in the painful process of wading through it.  
  
And it's Friday already. All week, I had gotten calls at one in the afternoon from Heero, suggesting that we go out for lunch and talk. Each and every time, I had to apologize and turn him down in favor of keeping my current mode of employment. He understood, of course, and even sympathized with me since he could see how work could become the focal point of one's life even when one did not wish it.  
  
Suffice to say, I have not seen Heero since Sunday morning and I was feeling a bit irked by that.  
  
Heero wasn't the only one calling and asking for my presence at lunch or dinner or whatever meal people ate. Quatre called, Trowa called, Wufei and his adorable wife Meiran called. Like Heero, I had to decline all their offers for company and they had all understood. But it did not phase them from trying on a daily basis to rescue me from my impromptu hell.  
  
So comes today, Friday. It is usually the last day of the work week when I could kick back and relax. Not this Friday, though. It seems that my work has piled up even higher somehow, defying all logic of physics and sanity. I was looking at an all nighter and perhaps even an all-weekender.  
  
I wish, not for the first time, that I could just tell my clients to plead guilty and go to jail like happy little criminals that they were.  
  
Eight o'clock on Friday. I know for a fact that my friends are all out on the town, probably having a great time and drinking my favorite mixes. They had called earlier to invite me out, but again, I had to tell them that I was buried in work. They had sighed, called my clients and bosses unpleasant names that even I won't repeat, and then had told me where they would be if I happened to finish my work by some miracle.  
  
However, I was still at work. My secretary had gone home, all the paralegals had shot out of the building as soon as the clock hit six and my bosses were either at their beach house or boinking their respective mistresses in some expensive hotel. Yet here I am, still hard at work, not eating, not moving, not doing anything that was not work related.  
  
Around nine, my cell rang and I had to dig around my paper cluttered desk to locate it. The caller I.D. flashed 'Heero' back at me happily and I decided that five minutes of break time to talk to Heero was well deserved, if not necessary.  
  
"Heero," I breathed as soon as I picked up, "you have no idea how good it is to hear from you."  
  
"Is that so," Heero replied, an unseen smile lacing his voice, "then I suppose you are still at work. How goes it?"  
  
"Terrible! I have so much work that I'm going to end up spending the night in my office. Some Friday, huh?"  
  
We fell into an easy rapport, our conversation relaxed and friendly. We had not laid eyes on each other since Sunday last, but I think for me, that made the talking easier. After all, over the phone, I wasn't held in a spell cast by his strangely intense eyes. Not that I minded his eyes, not at all, but I like to think clearly somewhat when I'm talking to someone.  
  
Heero told me that he had just finished with his last patient of the day, a hard case of intractable repressed memories and some such. I listened with great interest, nearly forgetting about my enormous work load, just enjoying the way he told a story that could have been boring. I chuckled when he pitched his voice higher than normal to pretend that he was his anal-retentive secretary telling him to get some lunch or she'd quit. I laughed outright when he then related a story of his secretary's odd obsession with his nutritional intake.  
  
What I had intended as a pleasant five minute break turned itself into forty minutes before I knew anything had happened. All I know is that I looked at my watch, gasped, cursed and told Heero I had to go back to work.  
  
He said bye to me in a low tone, conveying that he was disappointed but that he understood. I was reluctant as well to hang up, but the harsh mistress of work was calling me back into her thorny embrace.  
  
My eyes started to blur a tad when eleven o'clock came around, reminding me of how tired I was. My stomach grumbled in unison with my throbbing eyes, telling me on no uncertain terms that if I didn't eat, it would start to digest the nearest organ for nutrition. Since the nearest organ to my stomach happened to be my liver which I depend on for life and joy, I decided that I should raid the vending machines for food.  
  
I stood to appease my stomach and sighed a deep one. I had intended to spend time with Heero this weekend, I really had. I was also going to tell my friends about the beautiful and eerie thing happening to me and Heero. I had labeled this weekend as the confessions weekend for I was going to admit my blossoming feelings to Heero as well as my friends.  
  
Plans shot to hell, I should really be getting used to that.  
  
I was nearly at the door to my office when there was a knock on the other side. It was firm, the staccato of it spaced evenly and perfectly. I almost knew who it was, but even so, when I opened the door and it revealed Heero, I was still surprised and my heart beat faster.  
  
Yeah, I must be getting it bad. Whatever the 'it' was or whether or not it was truly bad, I had yet to determine.  
  
"Hi."  
  
Heero's greeting was simple yet it lifted my spirits a ton. He was really there, standing right in front of me in his slightly wrinkled suit and his hands holding.. a bag from a deli.  
  
He brought me dinner.  
  
I usher him into my office, taking the bag from him and rummaging around to see what he had brought me to eat. I don't think I'd have cared if the bag had been filled with monkey brains on toasted rye because it had been so damned thoughtful of him. He sat on the couch usually reserved for clients and other associates of mine, looking at me bemusedly as I slowly took the seat across from him.  
  
"Wow, Heero, this is so great, I mean, here you are, here I am, there is food.."  
  
I continue to babble over how great it all is and realize that I should give up the small hope I had of my voice and my brain working in tandem in Heero's presence. It didn't matter though because Heero didn't seem to mind that I was going off on a babbling spree.  
  
"You sounded so tired on the phone and I wanted to see you.. so, here I am and I brought gifts."  
  
There is that saying that a way to man's heart is through his stomach. I will believe that one whole-heartedly at this moment in lieu of my other clichéd motto that a way to man's heart is between the third and fourth ribs. The deli sandwiches were not gourmet nor expensive, but I think as gifts go, it was probably one of the best.  
  
Right behind Heero's wanted presence, of course.  
  
I took out a sandwich and a soda from the bag and started unwrapping before I saw that Heero was still staring at me. I'm one of those people who can't eat very well when someone's staring, so instead of taking a wanted bite, I focus on Heero.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," Heero replied, a slight blush staining his cheeks, "it's just that.. I know it has been only a week.. I know I haven't known you that long.. well.."  
  
I raise an eyebrow. I guess the condition of babbling uncontrollably was not a disease relegated solely to me. Who knew that Heero could do it as well?  
  
"Yes?" I prompt him helpfully.  
  
"I missed you."  
  
It was a sentence comprised of three much used words. First came the subject 'I' which signified Heero. Then came the verb 'missed' which had meanings that ranged far and wide, anything from a sense of deep loss to a need to see someone. Finally, the sentence ended with the object 'you.' As in Duo Maxwell who was holding the sandwich with enough force to dent the delicately toasted bread.  
  
"Oh."  
  
On the heels of my pleasant surprise is warmth. A soft, glowing kind of warmth that seem to make the edges of reality blur.  
  
Heero smiles at me once again and takes a sandwich for himself as well. We eat without saying anything, the silence broken only by eating noises. It wasn't a comfortable silence, but it was.. nice. Lovely.  
  
It is a Friday night. I have a mountain of work begging for my attention on my desk, deadlines breathing down my neck and I'm still in my office. But now, it doesn't seem so bleak because there is an intruder of the most unexpected kind in my office sharing a sandwich and a soda with me.  
  
After we were done eating, Heero picked up the garbage, tossed them into the bag and left my office with a gently whispered promise to see me soon and I went back to work. Unfortunately, paying attention to it was rather hard because I couldn't shake loose the thought that had lodged itself in my head as soon as Heero had left.  
  
I think, just maybe, that my project of being special is merging itself with another interest that entered my life just as swiftly and unexpectedly.  
  
I believe that Heero might be the one who could fulfill my goals. He could be the answer to my search. He already thought I was special, so what did I have to lose in believing that he is the one I've been looking for?  
  
The answer comes to me in a moment of terrible clarity and I shrink back from the enormity of it. If Heero was my answer.. if he was the one I've been seeking.. if he was the person who would make me feel special.. then I'd be risking the one thing that I thought I never had to put in the line of fire.  
  
That pesky thing I have called my heart.  
  
Why hadn't I considered what I could lose when I started the damn project? Why didn't I realize that when I found someone that I deemed special that I'd be at the risk of being.. hurt? Why couldn't I see that Heero had the potential to break me before I realized what he could become to me?  
  
I don't know those answers, but I do know one thing for certain now. I know, without a doubt, that being special isn't all about gentleness, love and cuddly moments. It is also about being hurt, feeling pain and loss of one's heart.  
  
I am truly scared.  
  
Knowing that, knowing myself as I do.. there is only one option left to me.  
  
I must abandon my project to be special.  
  
And to do that, I must abandon Heero as well.  
  
All of my internal organs lurch when I come to that conclusion, but I ignore it and dive back into my work with renewed fervor.


	10. The Ninth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> uh, introspective philosophical stuff...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Isn't it amazing how I can go from despising Heero to hurting him to liking him to ignoring him within so short a time? Isn't it just so cruel and mean of me to do it without batting an eyelash?  
  
Isn't it incredible how well I hide behind my work so that I would not have to admit to myself that I might have made a mistake?  
  
A week has passed since Heero came to my office with dinner. It was a week filled with intensive work hours for me, affording me an excuse not to have social interaction with anybody. Heero called daily, but I was always curt with him. He might have come by in the evenings, but I had always made sure that after five in the afternoon, I would be elsewhere in the vast building doing work.  
  
If Heero thought I was avoiding him, he never said so. He was always concerned, so damned worried that I was overworked. He was so nice that every time I tried to tell him that we should never speak again, I found myself unable to say it.  
  
I am at an interesting crossroads of life right now. On one hand, I have the means and the person to be special with, dare I say to love. On the other, I have the infinite possibility of heart break and pain.  
  
So, the question is, what do I desire more, the love or the need to remain intact?  
  
Does everyone who finds himself in my situation analyze it so closely? The person that I am does not allow me to do something without seeing the consequences. If I happen to somehow fall in love with Heero thereby fulfilling my mission, what are the consequences?  
  
Let's face the facts, as I said before, my occupation does define a large aspect of my life. I am a criminal defense attorney. I have seen some grisly and atrocious things people do in the name of love, most of which would get them twenty to life in a maximum security prison. I've seen uglier things about that amorphous emotion than anything good.  
  
Maybe it was time for me to get a different perspective on this thing. It was time to talk to Quatre and Trowa, the only couple I knew whose love wasn't jaded or scary.  
  
That is why I find myself sitting on a nice chair in their living room on a Saturday night, nervously sipping my drink as I tried to make myself ask them.  
  
"Duo," Quatre begins, "you aren't doing okay, are you? What's wrong?"  
  
How to answer that.. I go through many possibilities of what I could say in response, but in the end, I decide that truth would be my best bet.  
  
"I was successful in my search. I found someone special."  
  
Gah, breathing became much easier after that admission. I had so wanted to tell these two for the longest time, but I had always stopped myself. But now that I said it out loud to someone other than myself, it seemed more real and I felt that they had the answers I needed.  
  
"That's great," Quatre beamed, "so what could be wrong with that?"  
  
"The problem isn't being special anymore, Quatre. It's what happens once they leave."  
  
I might be the only person I know who considers the imminent possibility of someone leaving one's life when that someone had just barely made an entrance. In case you were wondering, I'm a big fan of prenuptial agreements as well. Why let the future bite you in the ass when you can mitigate damages now?  
  
"Why are you so certain that she'll leave?"  
  
Ah, that Trowa, so pervasively astute yet dense..  
  
"They all leave, Trowa. Do you know what the divorce rate is? Fifty percent. Do you know what it is when one of the spouses is an attorney? Eighty seven percent. Look at those numbers and tell me I don't have a justified fear."  
  
"You're afraid? You, Duo Maxwell, who can stand up to anyone?"  
  
Quatre is my own personal cheerleader, but his belief in me is misplaced this time. Yes, I can stand up to most anything and argue my side of it to the death. But I have never been up against such a tough opponent before.  
  
"Has she rejected you already?"  
  
It is with utter seriousness that Trowa poses that question. Quatre falls silent and I am left to ponder if it is wise to answer it. Then it occurs to me. These two are my best friends. They only have my best interest in mind so I had nothing to fear with them.  
  
"No, he thinks I'm special."  
  
Here, they take a short moment to process what I had just said, to make sure that they heard me right.  
  
"He?"  
  
"Special?"  
  
I nod for both of those questions, affirming what I had said only moments before.  
  
"The person you find special," Quatre gasps out, "is a guy?"  
  
I dissect Quatre's reaction carefully, looking for anything negative, but as I had said, these two would understand when no one else could.  
  
"Now I feel silly," Trowa says with wry humor, "for assuming that it was a girl. Why didn't you tell us before?"  
  
"Don't be dense, Trowa," Quatre says in my stead, "don't you remember how confusing it was for you when you found out you liked guys?"  
  
I cannot help but smile as they talk about their first realizations of being attracted to men and I find that they had much the same turmoil that I had experienced. They had gone through it as well, the doubts, the reprimands, the avoidance.  
  
But that was no longer the problem for me because I had accepted that I found Heero very attractive indeed. The real essence of my dilemma was that now that I knew I liked Heero as much as I do, what is to be done about it?  
  
"I'm thinking about just forgetting about him. I mean, I'm not made out for the long term relationship stuff anyway. It was stupid of me to think I needed it, you know?"  
  
I don't sound convincing at all. I want to make myself believe that my decision to let go of Heero was the right one, the sane choice. Somehow, though, I could not accept that. Perhaps that is the reason why I haven't told Heero yet of my intentions.  
  
"Duo, why are you so afraid of being special? There is no guarantee that he'll leave you."  
  
Quatre is an eternal optimist so I excused his efforts to beam in the silver lining.  
  
"Well, there's no guarantee that he won't, either. In fact, in the whole relationship thing, there is no guarantee of anything. There aren't answers, only questions. The concept is riddled with uncertainty and unknowing. It's just.."  
  
Trowa sighed when I stopped talking and moved to sit next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder, forcing me around so that I could look him in the eyes. It is unfortunate that his clear green eyes have this awful tendency to look deep into one's heart.  
  
"I understand your fear, Duo. But nothing can be certain. You can only try your best."  
  
Yes, I know that. But my best could fail me miserably, don't you know?  
  
"Nothing worth anything comes without a price. The price you pay for being special is that you give up control of your own heart to someone else. It can't be helped, but if you want it badly enough, you have to have courage."  
  
Is it me, or did I just drop into an afternoon school special of some sort? I don't mean to belittle Trowa since I know that he is right, but really, who in the real world says this kind of shit and means it?  
  
I think Quatre is catching onto the fact that Trowa's words are having no effect on my desire to give up on my project and Heero. Sometimes, having friends who know you so damn well can work against you.  
  
"Duo, it's okay to be afraid," Quatre says without being condescending, "because everyone in relationships are afraid of what might happen. But I never thought you'd be the kind of person to run just because you were afraid."  
  
See what I mean? Quatre had just manipulated me without breaking a sweat. He has challenged me, dared me even, to face my fears and go for it.  
  
Damn it, I can't back down from a challenge.  
  
"Quatre, man," I say with something that could have been gratitude, "you know how to drive me into a fucking corner."  
  
He smiles at me knowingly, encouraging me to go and make amends with my emotions. He is telling me without saying a word to face up to the fear like I faced up to accepting the beginnings of my feelings for Heero. It feels good to have their support, their faith in me.  
  
"I guess I'll be off then.. I suddenly have things to do."  
  
They both wave me out of their apartment, practically rushing me out the door. They know where I am going and I think they know what I'm going to do. They give me a last encouraging smile before something suddenly occurs to them.  
  
"By the way Duo," Trowa asks curiously, "who is this guy?"  
  
I laugh as I walk down the hallway to the elevator, but I do turn and answer them.  
  
"Heero Yuy. Surprising, isn't it?"  
  
The elevator arrives and I get into it, but just before the doors closed on me, I think I heard Quatre say to Trowa 'I told you so.'  
  
Yeah, they know me way too well.  
  
So, now I have to go see Heero. I haven't really figured out what to say, so I walk aimlessly around for a while to get my head together. Should I explain myself? Or should I just let him think that the reason I hadn't seen him all week was due to work? I don't really know, but I have to talk to him.  
  
I need to straighten out what's in my head.  
  
After about an hour of walking, I realize that I still don't know what I'm going to say so I just bite the bullet and call Heero. He answers almost immediately and agrees to meet me at my apartment.  
  
Why did I ask him to meet me in my personal space? So that I won't have anywhere to run when my courage deserts me. If I am to talk to him, I must block all paths of escape.  
  
I hear that's how wars are won.  
  
When Heero got to my apartment, I had already been there for ten minutes, pacing around the living room like a manic depressive on the high end of the cycle. He entered when I opened the door and he immediately picked up on my agitation. He is a psychiatrist after all, is he not?  
  
"So.. we need to talk."  
  
"Of course," he answers me without hesitation and sits down to listen. The floor is all mine.  
  
"I was avoiding you all week."  
  
There, the truth was out. How would he take it?  
  
"I know."  
  
I look over at him sharply, noting that he did not seem offended or angry. He just sat there with this.. look of pure acceptance on his face. At this point, I add guilty to the list of emotions churning within me.  
  
"I'm truly scared of you.. or at least, of what we could be."  
  
To my surprise, I'm being totally honest with him. In fact, I find that it is easier to talk to him about my feelings than it had been with Quatre and Trowa. I store away that strange bit of knowledge to gauge his reaction.  
  
"I know that too," Heero says carefully, "because I feel the same way."  
  
"Oh.. I didn't know that. You always seem so confident with me."  
  
He smiles a bit ruefully and rakes his hand through his hair. He seems to be at a loss for words, but I wait for him to respond.  
  
"That doesn't mean that I didn't have fears of my own."  
  
I cannot deny him that. I should have realized that I might not be the only one afraid of relationships.  
  
"I thought about never talking to you again."  
  
He does seem rather shocked at that one, but I go on before he can say anything.  
  
"But I can't not talk to you. I'm deathly afraid of what you can do to me, but even so, I can't make myself not talk to you. Isn't it just the strangest thing?"  
  
"Strange, but fortunate for me."  
  
This time, I smile and I stop pacing to sit next to him. Much of my nervous tension and fear are draining out of me and the longer I talk to him, the lesser my fears get.  
  
"This could end badly, you know. I could walk out on you, you could find a better person and leave me, I could commit a horrible crime of passion on your behalf and bury your mangled body in a ditch somewhere.."  
  
He laughs at me and I laugh right along with him. Eventually, we stop and I feel immensely better about everything.  
  
"I was worried about the end. I haven't ever felt this way about anyone before, you know?"  
  
Heero nods, understanding me perfectly. I suppose it is good for me to have a professional listener on my side.  
  
"You have good reasons to be afraid," Heero finally says, "because I can't say with certainty what will happen with us in the future.. I ask only that you don't give up on what we could have before it happens."  
  
"What is this 'it' that will happen?" I ask, half sure of the answer but half afraid of hear it.  
  
"Us." Heero says with a deep conviction that puts my fears back into the corner.  
  
"Will the 'us' thing be special?"  
  
"It already is."  
  
It is then that we make the first physical contact. It was just the barest of touches, our fingertips brushing against each other softly, but it made my heart beat faster and my breath hitch.  
  
My fears are not gone, but they have been coaxed into resting for now. I won't stop being afraid of what could happen in the future since I can't abandon all I am in one night. But, the difference is, now I'm willing to try this thing and see where it takes me.  
  
So, buckle your seatbelt and put the tray back up to its upright position, Duo Maxwell. I have a feeling that it will be a long, hectic, bumpy ride, but the destination.. it may be worth all the trouble.


	11. The Tenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> dripping sap.. eck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

It's Wednesday afternoon, I'm at work and I'm in some seriously deep thought. Something had been bothering me for about twenty hours now and I have become quite meditative about the whole situation. The question at hand is not a question of law which I could have answered with less time and effort nor is it a question of fact, really.  
  
The deep thought of mine centered on a concept that eludes me even after my sleepless night and restless day. Just what the hell is dating, anyway?  
  
At first glance, the word evokes images of flowers and candy, of goodnight kisses and holding hands. I see couples at movies, at dinners, blushing shyly at each other as they try to figure out just who the other person is.  
  
That is so remotely not what Heero and I are doing that I wonder if what we are doing can even qualify as dating.  
  
I suppose on Sunday, Heero and my relationship changed from.. something to something else. I don't exactly know, I don't think there are words in the English lexicon to describe what Heero and I have. Is it a relationship? Are we dating? What?  
  
Dating. It is such a deceptively innocent word, bandied about the every day vernacular by almost everyone. A girl or a boy somewhere on earth is currently in the process of saying that he or she is going on a date, or they are on a date, or they are discussing date activities. The whole damned world is enamored with dating, but do any of them know just what it is?  
  
Tuesday, Quatre had called to ask me if things with Heero went well and I told him all about it. When I finished, he excitedly asked me if we were now dating and I had said nothing. After all, how can I say we're dating when I have not yet defined the term? That began my long hours of deliberations on that topic and even now, I haven't come up with the answer.  
  
On Thursday, I decided to reach out for some help. This thing I had with Heero was new to me, so it seemed obvious to me that I should be asking for advice from those who knew a thing or two about being with someone. Sure, I've slept around, but have I ever taken a girl out on a date? Not unless the girl in question considers getting drinks from me just before we have sex as a date activity.  
  
Although it was rare for me to go out on a weekday, I made an exception on Thursday. I was driving myself batty, trying to define just what the heck it was that I was doing with Heero. We met at a quiet restaurant that Wufei favored, or at least he did two years ago, to discuss my question.  
  
We consisted of me, the one who was in need of answers, Quatre and Trowa who were my brightest hopes for providing said answers, and Wufei and Meiran who were supposed to act as mediators. It was a plan.  
  
I should really stop saying that word 'plan' at all, because every time I do, the fates hear me and twist my reality so that it falls apart.  
  
The opening topic at dinner was mundane, just old friends talking about work. I told them about the messy case load that had been pawned off on me and Quatre griped about the idiocy of upper level management of the department of which he was the vice president. Trowa sympathized with us, but he couldn't really empathize seeing that he was a freelance writer. He didn't even have an office, let alone a boss. Wufei talked about his students at the college, pegging them as intelligent but it seemed that they had a tendency to be snot nosed brats. I was like that in college so I felt bad for Wufei. He does not deal well with people like that. Of course, Meiran laughed at her brand new husband for his inability to deal with a bunch of teenagers with drinking problems, but I think she understood better than any of us since she was also a professor at the same place.  
  
It was nice to talk about things that served no significant purpose other than to hear ourselves be social, but the question was burning so thickly in my head by the time our main courses were out that I had to break the mood.  
  
"What is this thing called dating?"  
  
That question had broken through an intricate discussion about the right doneness for steaks. Four pairs of eyes swiveled in my direction and considered me carefully.  
  
"Are we talking movies, dinners, what? Flowers and candy? Meeting the parents? Holiday fun? Rock climbing?"  
  
"Duo," Wufei said with a quirk of his lips, "is it me or does your definition of dating seem to be a bit.. antiquated?"  
  
Antiquated? Me?  
  
"Yeah," Meiran joined in, "because you seem to be rather fixated on the activities of dating, not the concept."  
  
"Mmm hmm," Trowa interjected calmly, "like you're still in high school."  
  
"You are too interested in the definition to really enjoy it, aren't you." That was from Quatre and it seemed like he was accusing me of a horrible crime.  
  
All I had done was ask a fairly simple question and instead of answers, I was getting bombarded from all sides with insults. I do not think my question was stupid or anything, but they are beginning to make me feel as if I had asked a question with the world's most obvious answer.  
  
"Shit," I say with extreme tact, "I didn't ask you guys to tell me what I thought of it! Tell me what you think it is."  
  
Ah ha! I do believe I stumped them. They all had their mouths gaping open as if any moment, a sound would emerge, but nothing came out. After a few seconds of verbal blockage, they looked at each other, wrinkles between their eyes signifying that they were thinking hard but coming to no conclusions.  
  
"Well," Meiran finally said, "Wufei and I never dated. We only met like a week ago."  
  
As if that excused anything.  
  
"Yeah," Wufei stuttered into the conversation, "so we can't be experts or anything. And before this unfortunate marriage, I was too busy to date."  
  
That earned Wufei a full arm swing of a smack on the backside of his cranium, causing him to pitch forward into his dinner with his nose. Meiran continued on with her dinner as if nothing happened as Wufei carefully dug his nose out of his medium well steak. I cannot be blamed for laughing at this spectacle.  
  
"What about you two?" I ask between chuckles, turning my head towards Quatre and Trowa.  
  
"We dated."  
  
Quatre sounded absolutely adamant about that fact. In fact, he had a martial light in his eyes that said if anyone dared challenge his supposition, he would personally see to their untimely demise.  
  
"Of course," Trowa agreed, "I even asked him out on our first date."  
  
"You did not ask! You mumbled something about a movie playing at the Center and I said it'd be a great idea if we went."  
  
"Is that not asking?"  
  
"No!" Quatre said, getting quite excited now, "asking implies that there was a question. You never posed any question. You just said something so unintelligible that I had to take pity on you and make sure we went."  
  
I leave the conversation politely at this point by mentally backing away. Quatre and Trowa are talking about their first date and they both had completely different memories of that time. They disagreed on who asked whom, what they had seen, what they had done after the movie, everything. But they did it so well that anyone hearing them would immediately know that they were quite madly in love.  
  
Giving up on getting any more answers out of my quarreling friends, I turned to Meiran and Wufei in hopes that they could possibly be of help. Alas, those two were too busy discussing Wufei's slip of the tongue about their unfortunate marriage. There is nothing messier than getting between a husband and a wife in a passionate verbal exchange about the condition of their marriage.  
  
By the time dinner was over, I had not received any answers. However, the night had not been a total loss since I got to see two vastly different couples in action and noticed one critical element. Whether they were talking, fighting or discussing, they were at ease with one another.  
  
I think I am fairly at ease with Heero, so I cannot be in that bad of a situation with him.  
  
I went home and slept well that night.  
  
Friday morning, I woke up a little too early. Six in the morning to be exact, but I felt so rested that I had no desire to go back to bed. Instead, I decided to be mischievous and give Heero a call. This would be a hell of a way to find out whether or not he was a morning person.  
  
The phone rang only once before it was picked up and the voice on the other end sounded remarkably awake.  
  
"Heero.." I say in place of a greeting, "you are a morning person, aren't you."  
  
Wait.. I seem to recall that I had called Heero at four in the morning once and he had been awake then too. He had been awake around midnight when we had our dinner as well. Therefore, either Heero had my exact schedule or he never slept. Both possibilities were rather creepy.  
  
"Just because I am awake does not make me a morning person."  
  
"Right. That's why you sound so chipper and cheery."  
  
Note to self: never, ever say chipper ever again because it is a word that should not be used to describe Heero under any circumstances.  
  
"I only sound cheerful because it's you calling. Everyone else would have gotten a long string of swear words."  
  
"Good," I say, smiling and shaking my head, "because if you were a morning person, I would have had to ask you not to procreate ever so that we could stop the propagation of your hated kind."  
  
Heero laughs and even though his voice is dimmed by the phone line, it is still a great sound.  
  
"I am not one of them, I swear."  
  
Are all morning conversations this friendly and fun? Because if they are, I just might call Heero every morning.  
  
We talked for a bit longer before hanging up to get ready for work. I had my load of psychos to deal with and I'm sure Heero had a plate full of them as well. In our respective fields, we tend to run into a good amount of the disturbed and the deranged.  
  
Later that night, as promised, Heero and I went out to dinner. It was a nice, Japanese restaurant with many different kinds of sushi and sake. The atmosphere was soothing and we got to sit in a private booth away from prying eyes.  
  
As soon as we sat down, I smiled at him and said the first thing that came to my mind.  
  
"Are we dating?"  
  
Apparently, I can sound like an idiot without imbibing an immense amount of liquor. I had just asked Heero a question that belonged in a teenage romance. Hell, it was a line the girl would have asked! I cringe, but Heero seems to take me seriously.  
  
"I don't know. I have never been too sure about the concept."  
  
I know that my face lights up at Heero's response, because I am not the only one pondering the question of dating. Heero has no idea what it is to date someone is either and that makes me feel better. Neither of us knows what we are doing, and as odd as it sounds, it comforts me.  
  
"So, what do you think we're doing, Duo?"  
  
It is rather strange that he would ask me when I had been the one to pose the question in the first place. Honestly, I don't know what we're doing. I don't think we're dating, because that has to involve awkwardness and shyness that we got over a while ago. I don't think we're going out together because that just sounds so damned juvenile. We certainly aren't boyfriends yet since we have not even hugged each other.  
  
"Well," I answer after my long pause, "I don't know either, but whatever it is, I like it."  
  
"Then that's all that matters, right?"  
  
I nod in agreement, but that awful little critter in my head that likes definitions and solid reasoning reared its pointy head, taking control of my mouth.  
  
"Are we seeing each other, you think?"  
  
Gah, what is it about me that needs to define everything? Can't I just go with the flow and let the future take its course or whatever the damned saying is?  
  
"Oh, maybe," Heero replies seriously, but I spy a hint of humor in his eyes, "or we could say we're with each other."  
  
"You know, I don't think I ever realized how many ways there were to say that you are.. romantically involved."  
  
"Ooh, wordy. I like that phrase. We're romantically involved."  
  
The talk degenerated from that point, both of us taking pot shots at popular phrases people use to refer to coupledom in general. Soon, we got our raw fish on a wooden boat along with our piping hot sake and got down to the business of.. dating, seeing each other, being with each other, take your pick.  
  
I can't define what Heero and I are, but whatever it is, I know it's special.  
  
Yeah. Special. I can't seem to escape that word around Heero anymore. I might as well accept it fully and get used to it.


	12. The Eleventh Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> i tried! sap, sap, sap......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

There was a time, not too long ago, when physical expressions of desires were the daily norm in my life. I remember all the kissing, the hugging, the caressing, the touching, need I go on. And right now, that is all that they are memories. Ever since Heero and I started our relationship or whatever, I have yet to get physical with him.  
  
Just what was wrong with that picture in the first place? It has been told to me that some people take things slowly in relationships, creeping at a speed that would make rocks grow weary, starting with eye contact and moving on to holding hands by the end of the month. Whoever those people are, I feel for them. Hell, I can empathize with them at this point.  
  
To be fair, I will admit right now that I have not yet made a single move towards Heero. I really cannot say what is keeping me from at least sitting close to him, but every time we see each other, I feel compelled to have distance between us as well as erase it at the same time. It is a strange paradox that I find myself caught in, and I haven't a clue how to extract myself from this predicament.  
  
Sometimes, I am caught off guard by my sudden urge to just.. be close to him. An inch more to my right, I would think, then I'd be touching his shoulder with mine. A little stretch, I'd plan, then my hand could rest across the back of his chair. Then I come to my senses and mentally yell at myself for having thoughts I have not had since I was in middle school.  
  
I wonder why I am so worried about touching him when I am sure that I want to touch him. Why else would I be frustrated that we haven't done anything, not even hold hands? Still, there is a tension within me that freezes me every time I try to touch him.  
  
Just what the hell am I so nervous about anyway? This is Heero, someone I think I can safely call my significant other by now. I am absolutely sure he would not rebuff me if I tried to do something physical with him. I am also sure that I would welcome him with open arms had he come jumping into them.  
  
All this to say that I'm not getting any and it is most likely my fault.  
  
Sexual frustration aside, Heero and I were doing great. We spent a lot of time together, sometimes doing exciting things such as playing tennis or basketball, and sometimes doing nice, relaxing things like watching movies and listening to music. Most of all, we talked all the time, finding out little things about each other that endeared our relationship to us more and more.  
  
For example, I had no idea that Heero was a walking compendium of all music ever written. He knew songs I had never heard of in my life, I would sing an obscure line from an obscure song off tune and he would know exactly what it was. I'm beginning to think that I should just make up songs so that he would puzzle and agonize over it for the better part of a week.  
  
Of course, Heero found out about my near obsession with anime. He had barely known of the incredible art form imported from Japan before he was smacked in the head with my passionate hobby. That had led to me accusing him of not being in touch with heritage, he revealed that he was only a quarter Japanese on his father's side, I admitted to being a complete mix of every European nationality ever, and so forth and so on.  
  
Heero likes things neat, I like things slightly messy. I love to cook and Heero looks at the kitchen as a foreign dimension he has no desire to enter. I think horror movies are stupid, but he looks upon them as a highly entertaining and healthy measure of stress relief. He has a regular work out schedule which explained his gorgeous body and I just tended to burn calories due to my inhuman metabolism. I like the winter except for the cold and he likes the summer except for the humidity.  
  
Yes, we are doing well. We hardly ever have an argument unless I'm in the mood for one and instigate it, but even then, it is a fun time, never intended to be hurtful. We hate discussing politics, so we tend to have serious talks about the world in historical terms, not current media. Best of it all is that no matter what we talk about, what we find out about each other, we never put the other down or disapprove.  
  
Well, except that he's an avid Lakers fan and I have an unmitigated, god given right to hate that about him. I definitely like him more than I have ever liked anyone, but basketball is basketball. Like has nothing to do with it.  
  
When the month passed and we moved fluidly into the second month of our new relationship, we knew quite a lot about each other , but we had still yet to do anything besides talking. I had to find a way to remedy this situation before Heero and I hit the ripe old age of ninety, still wondering about the mysteries of holding hands while we breathed in and out of our oxygen tanks.  
  
Hence, I decided it was time to call up the troops.  
  
The phone rang several times before the voice mail service came on, urging me to leave a message. However, this was an emergency and I could not wait for them to call back. I called them again and again until finally, it was picked up by a human voice.  
  
At least, I think it was a human voice. I have never heard a human make those types of growling noises before.  
  
"What the hell do you want?"  
  
A small warning and clarification are necessary at this point. When Trowa swears, trouble is nearby and it is after your sorry ass.  
  
"Hey, Trowa, what's up?"  
  
I try to sound like my normal self, but my voice comes out squeaky. As much as I love Trowa, I can admit to the fact that he can scare me senseless.  
  
"Duo," he growled once again, "do you have any idea what time it is? Jesus.."  
  
Time? I had not even entered that consideration into the equation. I check my watch and see that it is four in the morning. On a Monday.  
  
No wonder Trowa sounds like he wants to draw and quarter me using the dullest butter knife on earth. "Oops," I say, managing to sound very apologetic and contrite, "I'm really sorry.. but this is urgent.  
  
Exigent circumstances." "Exi.. wha? Duo, are you drunk?"  
  
I forgive Trowa for his wrong assumption for he was still half asleep.  
  
"No. I'm in need of advice. Now."  
  
"Oh for the love of.." Trowa grumbles, "wait.."  
  
I hear muffled sounds coming across my phone and I know it is Trowa trying to wake Quatre and pawn me off on him. Actually, I really wanted to talk to Quatre anyways because he was a better and nicer person for advice than Trowa. Trowa tended to be a tad blunt sometimes and I am feeling rather sensitive right now.  
  
Eventually, Quatre's voice came through the phone in a bleary but friendly hello. I could still hear Trowa in the background mumbling about inconsiderate friends who were insomniac blood sucking creatures of the night. I assume that he meant me.  
  
"Quat, dire emergency has come to my attention."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Quatre sounds like he is speaking through water, but he's trying his best to cope with my situation. I hope only that he is lucid enough to give me sound advice.  
  
"I.." I begin, not quite knowing how to say what was wrong, "I.. may have a problem."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Swallowing, I decide to throw my problem out into the open and see what Quatre could construe.  
  
"I haven't kissed him yet."  
  
A small pause followed my declaration.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Are you even listening, Quat? I haven't kissed Heero yet. I haven't even held his hand yet. What is wrong with this picture?"  
  
"Uh," Quatre replies through his yawn, "you need to make a move?"  
  
Now, what kind of advice was that to a friend who was in severe need of assistance?  
  
"Quatre, I'm being serious here. I really like him, you know? I want to do things with him, to him, whatever. But I haven't yet. Why do you think that is?"  
  
"You're an emotional retard who can't accept intimacy?"  
  
Have you ever had one of those moments in life when you are positive that you may be foaming at the mouth? I believe I am having that moment right now.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
At this point in time, I am quickly reevaluating my sense of sanity. Not only have I admitted to Quatre that I have not gotten physical with Heero, but I had actually expected him to tell me what my psychosis was. Instead, I was getting half-assed answers wrapped up in cleverly worded insults at four in the morning before a work day.  
  
"Sorry, Duo," says Quatre, not sounding sorry at all, "but I can't think right now. Can we talk tomorrow?"  
  
I do not even say good-bye. That is how offended I am.  
  
When Quatre called me at a decent hour the next day, I denied my entire conversation with him and changed the subject. I could not quite fathom why I had felt the intense need to call my best friend for advice on my non-existent sex life anyway. I never had a problem with my sex life. I never needed advice on my sex life because I was always the expert.  
  
I finally convinced myself by the end of the day that I needed no help. Unfortunately, that sense of self confidence only lasted until Heero came over that night for some quality time.  
  
We were watching television, but I cannot say what channel it was, what program it was, or even if the television was actually on. Heero sat on one end of my couch and I on the other with a whole cushion between us. It was the same as always, both of us keeping our distances while maintaining a nice, comfortable atmosphere.  
  
I was sick and tired of comfortable. I had to take some sort of action.  
  
"Say, Heero," I say nonchalantly, "you ever wonder why we haven't.. uh.. well, you know.. shit."  
  
I grimace, knowing that I butchered the speech I had carefully crafted in my head. What I had meant to say was 'Heero, we have not yet become physically intimate in any way. Shall we take this opportunity to amend that situation for the better?'  
  
Heero glanced at me, turning his head ninety degrees to get a better view of my rapidly blushing face. Yes, that's correct, I was blushing. In the space of a minute, I had manage to mangle my fine speech and collect six pints worth of blood onto my face.  
  
"Are you feeling okay, Duo?"  
  
No, I was not feeling okay. I was feeling nervous, restless, hopeful, shy, excited and embarrassed all at the same time.  
  
"I was just wondering," I manage to choke out, "why we haven't kissed yet."  
  
There, my big concern was out for Heero to inspect. I just wished that I could breathe so that I could stay conscious for his answer.  
  
"Oh."  
  
I look at him, ready to tear into him for his non-response when I catch the expression he is wearing on his face. The look he has is somewhere between surprise and a surge of wild hope, a much better response than what he had said.  
  
"I want to kiss you," I hear myself say, "but I haven't been able to. So I think it's up to you to make the first move."  
  
Heero smiles brilliantly as he moves closer to me.  
  
"I wanted to kiss you since the day I met you," he says, his voice getting softer with each word, "but I wanted to wait until I was sure you were used to the idea of me.. that way."  
  
His face is still getting closer and closer until all I can see is the reflection of my face in his blue eyes. I can feel his breath tickling my face, his hair brushing against my forehead. His hands are on my shoulders, neither caressing or staying still, sending shivers down my melting spine.  
  
"I got used to thinking about you like that a while ago.."  
  
His face gets marginally closer and his eyes drift shut half way. I can feel mine doing the same thing as my body relaxes more into his hands. We are so close..  
  
"I didn't notice. I'm sorry."  
  
Closer, Heero.. Come just a bit closer..  
  
"Some psychiatrist you are," I breathe out, "not even picking up hints that big."  
  
Then there is no more talking because finally, his lips have found mine. My eyes shut all the way, but my mind is blazing with new feelings and information.  
  
His lips are firm, but not hard. Pliant and flexible, but not soft. Slightly moist, so warm, so decadent..  
  
It is not a deep kiss. There is no pressure, no hurry, no violent burst of passion. It is tempered by our tentativeness, our joy at the first touch. It is a muted expression of what is between us, a silent, hushed communion between our bodies.  
  
I have never been kissed like this before. A kiss so chaste yet not, a kiss that stirs my desires but not inflame them.. a kiss so unlike any other that I can't even begin to describe the feelings running through me.  
  
My first kiss from Heero.. and my first kiss to him. I should have known that it would put all other kisses of my life to shame.  
  
After what seemed to be an eternity, a blink of time, we separate and open our eyes. We don't speak, we don't move, we just stare. I can still feel his breath on my face, he is so close. And I finally realize why I hadn't been able to kiss him for so long.  
  
I had somehow known that kissing him would change my life.  
  
"Damn.."  
  
Heero smiles and I know he's agreeing with me. The kiss had not only changed me, I know it changed him too.  
  
We were falling deeper into each other.  
  
"Not bad for our first kiss." Heero says, his eyes so soft that all the shades of blues in his eyes are melting into one, heated color.  
  
"We should do it again," I suggest a bit too quickly, "you know, to see if it was a quirk."  
  
"You're right," Heero replies, "it is vital that we know for sure."  
  
And this time, I lean into him. Our lips touch again and I'm overwhelmed into speechlessness. Thought becomes hazy and all I know is that I like this feeling. I like kissing Heero. No. More than that.  
  
I might as well as admit it.. I'm beginning to fall in love with him.  
  
My only wish is that it won't hurt me.


	13. The Twelfth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> a weeeeee bit of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I never did believe the stupid premise that love made everything all right. Why do I say this now? Perhaps it is because my work is suffering just a bit due to the suddenness and frequency in which Heero enters my thoughts. It might be that I am turning my self-admission of love over and over in my head, trying to view it from every angle to see if I had it right. It could even be that I cannot seem to think of Heero without the accompanying head rush.  
  
The kiss had done it. It had turned me from a well functioning, exceptional specimen of the society to a spacey, day dreaming idiot. At random times, the kiss would come alive in my head again and I end up relieving every single moment of it until I realize where I am. Usually, I am alone in my office, buried to my nose in papers and documents, but that one time, when I actually blanked out during an opening argument with a jury staring back at me expectantly, I knew I had to fix my problem.  
  
Is it me or did I develop massive amounts of problems since I met Heero?  
  
Friday, five days after the kiss, or rather, the kisses, I sat at my home in my boxers and undershirt, thinking about my newly developed problem. Love was one thing, but it should not be interfering with my work. Let's face it, there are innumerable amount of people in this world who are in love or in the process of falling in love and I'm sure they do not make a complete moron out of themselves at work.  
  
What was so unique about my experience that I have become the spacey ranger? My only excuse is that this is the first time in my life that I could admit that I might love someone. I am not quite at the 'I am absolutely, positively, fantastically in love' stage yet, but the rate it is going, I may get there before I know it. What will I do when my feelings get deeper and stronger? Fall into a coma?  
  
First love. I finally found that elusive rite of passage that everyone else seemed to have passed earlier in their lives. I can finally understand why Quatre had always been so damned giddy when he and Trowa started being together. I can comprehend the strange, dancing lights in Trowa's eyes whenever he happens to have Quatre in his field of vision. But hell, neither of them act the fool like I am doing right now.  
  
So, whatever am I doing on a Friday night, at my home, dressed in nothing but skivvies? I haven't invited Heero over to join me, I haven't called my friends to go out, and I haven't made any plans for the evening. I was entwined within my thoughts, trying to get my brain back to normal before Monday so that I could work without mental faltering.  
  
Thankfully, my vicious circular thinking was interrupted by my phone.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
I know who it is on the other end, but I try to sound uninterested. It is a game I have to keep myself on edge, I think.  
  
"Duo, what are you doing inside on a Friday night?"  
  
"Good question."  
  
Honestly, I could not say 'I'm at home, devising ways to make my brain forget Heero while I am at work.' That would sound as if I should become a friendly member of the local mental asylum. Perhaps not so extreme, but at least an out-patient.  
  
"Are you coming out with us?"  
  
I suppose I haven't really talked or hung out with my friends during the week. I had been overly immersed with my and Heero's newfound way of expressing our relationship. The thing is, I had always berated those who put their friends on the wayside for the sake of a new relationship, always belittling their attention span and devotion to their friends.  
  
God forbid I turn into one of those.  
  
"Sure, Quat. Name the place and I'll be there in half an hour."  
  
In actuality, it took me slightly longer than half an hour to get to the bar of choice due to my inattention. I failed to notice that I had walked out into the parking garage where my car was without any pants on until the breeze hit my bare legs. Now, how did I not notice my lack of pants? I blame it on Heero and his kisses.  
  
The bar was fairly packed which was not surprising since it was Friday, but it was not hard to pinpoint my friends. They tend to stand out, being so very attractive and all. Or maybe it was that Wufei was standing on the table where everyone else was seated, blaring out.. a song?  
  
I quickly made my way over to my friends who had the attention of almost every single person at the bar. I could not believe my eyes for Wufei is a reserved man in public most of the times. He didn't even sing karaoke on open mike nights.  
  
"What the hell is this?"  
  
That was all I could say as I watched Wufei belt out yet another incomprehensible line of a song. It seemed almost as if he did not know the words and was just wading through it by mumbling.  
  
"Oh, just an apology," Quatre answered, his face a delightful picture of repressed humor, "for telling Meiran that she looked interesting in her skirt."  
  
"I take it then that interesting was not a good word?"  
  
"Not at all," Meiran fumed, "it practically implied that I looked fat."  
  
Right. For the nth time in my life, I have to wonder what it was about women and their perceived weight problems. I am quite certain that when Wufei had said interesting, he had most likely meant it in a flattering way, but women have some strange organ in their brain that translated most adjectives used to describe them as 'fat'. I hoped that Wufei would find that organ and crush it beneath a large sledge hammer.  
  
Soon enough, Wufei was done and he hopped down from the table gracefully. He took a sit next to Meiran who looked moderately flattered.  
  
"Satisfied, woman?" Wufei seethed.  
  
"Very."  
  
My curiosity was eating me alive at this point. I just had to ask.  
  
"So, you sang her an apology?"  
  
Perhaps I sounded a bit too much like I was trying not to laugh, but I could not help it.  
  
"Yes," Wufei said glaring at my general direction, "because she said a mere apology wouldn't cut it. So I sang it. Now, drop it or I drop you."  
  
Well, was it me or was a certain someone a bit too grumpy tonight? This is what I get for being late, I miss all the fun and only catch the ire at the end.  
  
"So," Quatre said hastily, "have you and Heero gotten anywhere yet?"  
  
I take a moment of silence here to mourn Quatre for I am about to strangle him.  
  
"Yes," Trowa said almost immediately, "you were having a crisis."  
  
"A crisis," Wufei jumped in, his eyes glinting with vengeance, "in the Maxwell camp? My, whatever do you mean?"  
  
"Who's Heero?" Leave it to Meiran to ask a question that would lead to an extra long, convoluted history of my current love life.  
  
Hence, it was at this lovely gathering of friends that I finally confessed to Wufei and Meiran just who I had been dating for the last few weeks. First, I think I may have given Wufei a brain aneurysm for he could not fathom how I had ended up in a relationship with a man. Second, after sufficient recovery time, Wufei yelled at me rather indignantly for keeping such a big, life changing event to myself. Third, I was showered with congratulations for breaking the physical barrier with Heero.  
  
"So," Quatre said lazily, "I suppose you don't have problems with Heero anymore in that department."  
  
"All solved, no thanks to you. You were mean, remember?"  
  
"You called at four in the morning. You're lucky he didn't jump through the phone and kill you."  
  
Trowa must have been pissed still for my untimely call, but friends are supposed to suffer with their fellow friends, are they not?  
  
Surprisingly, it would fall upon Meiran to make the conversation damned awkward for me and amusing for others.  
  
"Have you had sex with him yet?"  
  
A few things that I must point out while I'm trying to stuff my eyes back into their sockets: Meiran is a delicate looking girl, small and feminine. I did not ever anticipate her asking me questions so bold and brash that I would end up choking on my drink. Also, I have known Meiran for a couple of months at the most by now, ever since she married Wufei. We are not the closest of friends nor do we share a special bond of any sort. So it is not wrong to be taken aback by that question.  
  
"It is not your business to know!"  
  
I have not sounded that squeaky since my fourteenth year of life when puberty hit me hard and my voice paid the price by running away to soprano land.  
  
"But it's a good question," Wufei rolled right along, "and since when have you been shy about talking about sex?"  
  
That is an undisputable point. I am not shy about sex. In fact, I have been known to talk about that oft celebrated topic in crude terms in loud voices. I have made all of these guys blush innumerable amount of times in the past with my thoughts on sex.  
  
Therefore, it is completely daft of me to blush when they ask me about my sex life. However, I cannot seem to stop that rush of blood along my cheeks, flushing me to the roots of my hair.  
  
"I am not shy," I groused out through clenched teeth, "and no, we have not had sex yet. Happy?"  
  
"Oh, we're ecstatic," Quatre said almost too nonchalantly, "but you aren't, I bet. What is keeping you from getting laid?"  
  
"Wait, wait, have you even gotten to first base?"  
  
I throw an incredulous look at Quatre and Meiran because the conversation is getting out of hand. I concede that it is normal for friends to grill another friend on the state of their love life, it is a tradition that has been with human society for as long as there has been speech. Yet, I cannot help but feel as if I should not answer, as if what I did with Heero was too personal even for my best of friends.  
  
"First base?" Wufei jumped in condescendingly, "what, are we in high school again? And just what is first base? Everyone has a different definition."  
  
Thankfully, the conversation changed course from that point, everyone inputting as to their own private definition of first base and so on. Apparently, girls have a different version of the whole baseball analogy from the guys. But then again, why wouldn't they for they are creatures that defy comprehension and logic?  
  
When the night comes to an end, we all say our respective good byes and I get good natured ribbing from my friends for not having had sex for nearly two months. I take it well, throw back some taunts from my arsenal and go home to sleep.  
  
Sleep, as good as that sounds, did not come easily because I kept thinking about Heero and what he was doing at that point in time. Moreover, when sleep did finally come, it was plagued with dreams about Heero.  
  
Can't I stop thinking about him just for one, solitary moment so I can have some normalcy in my life?  
  
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Usually, when a phone wakes me up, I tend to just turn the ringer off so that I can sleep in peacefully. However, this time, the caller I.D. showed that it was Heero and as much as I wanted to, I could not let it go. The situation is getting worse.  
  
"What's up, Heero."  
  
I cannot help the dreary tone of my voice. I am not a morning person, especially on a Saturday after I spent the night before drinking.  
  
"Duo, you sound horrible. Fun night?"  
  
He sounds damned amused at my pain. Is that how your boyfriend is supposed to treat you when you are not feeling your best?  
  
"Oh, yeah, a blast. My friends made fun of me the whole night."  
  
That is a definite exaggeration, but I had felt a bit persecuted last night so I believe I am entitled to a bit of hyperbole.  
  
"Good friends will do that," Heero chuckles out, "and I missed you last night."  
  
Grounding point number one: if my erratic thought behavior is any indication, I missed him last night too. Grounding point number two: no way in hell I'm going to admit that I've become dependent on his presence for I am an independent male of good means who need no other to complete him. Grounding point number three: the situation, as they say in the military, has gone to Def-Con 3.  
  
"Heero, I saw you Thursday. Remember?"  
  
"I know," he replies with a hint of warmth, "but that doesn't mean I don't miss you when I don't see you."  
  
"That's ridiculous," I continue, determined to see this through, "you can't miss me unless it has been a week, at least. Those are the unwritten rules, pal."  
  
"I never did like rules," Heero banters back, "so I can do what I wish."  
  
I feel so frustrated. Does he not see what I'm trying to say, that it is completely unreasonable that we miss each other because we didn't see the other for one day? It is not normal for people to do that, for me to feel that.  
  
"Look, Heero," I reply, hoping that I could get my point across, "we see each other practically every day. There is no reason for you to miss me for a one day absence, okay?"  
  
I can actually sense the frown and the slight disappointment coming through the phone line, but damn it all, we were getting unhealthy. People do not need to see each other every day to feel like the world is right.  
  
I certainly didn't need it, right? After all, I'm trying to clear some room in my brain so that I can lead a marginally normal life. I am desperately trying to stop thinking about Heero so that I can work again.  
  
"I apologize," Heero says a bit stiltedly, "for missing you. I won't do it again unless a week has passed."  
  
Damn. I probably hurt him. Again.  
  
"Shit," I swear, feeling like a jackass, "I didn't mean to say anything to make you feel bad, Heero. It's just that.. um, I'll be busy next week so I won't be able to see you until next weekend so I was trying to say.."  
  
For an attorney who can convince twelve people he's never met that the slimeball next to me is innocent, I'm doing a piss poor job of convincing the man I'm seeing that I didn't mean to hurt him.  
  
"It's okay, Duo. I'll just see you for lunch on Monday? I'll come by your office."  
  
That is where I hit the brakes full on and say something that I probably shouldn't have.  
  
"No, don't do that. People at my office will see you."  
  
How many ways can one person interpret that sentence? I bet there are many different ways, but I also bet that each interpretation is not a pleasant one.  
  
How can I tell? The fact that there is a dead silence lingering on the phone.  
  
"I mean," I try to amend, "not that I mind people seeing you there, I'm sure they have already, but I think people are talking about us, you know? The gossip mill is on full tilt and it's a bitch."  
  
Just what am I trying to do? I don't exactly know. My dilemma is that I cannot stop thinking about Heero at all. I was supposed to solve that dilemma by working hard and pushing him out of my head. Yet, Heero had brought up yet another thing that had been on my radar lately, that I don't want people at work to talk about us, or maybe even know about us. Granted, the work problem did not come to my full attention until he suggested he show up at my office in broad daylight with my bosses, associates and secretaries around, but it's a valid problem nonetheless.  
  
I work at a law firm. Get the picture?  
  
Heero certainly did. And I think the frost that accompanied his reply froze me solid.  
  
"I understand, Duo."  
  
Three short words and then click. He hung up.


	14. The Thirteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> sap, angst, long winded thought processes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Insomnia is one of those things in life that either causes insanity or insane productivity. Thankfully, I chose the latter and I worked nearly non-stop for a whole week before I collapsed like a pile of rotten potatoes on Saturday. Why did I choose to run myself to the ground, working hours that made my colleagues worry and my friends crazy?  
  
Easy answer would be that I wanted to run away from the memory of my last phone conversation with Heero. Hard answer would be that I am an unmitigated coward. Neither are entirely correct, but they'll have to do for now.  
  
Heero and I have not spoken since that last phone conversation and that happened a week ago today. Yes, I'm lying on my bed, exhausted and miserable, thinking about what I had done. The week of harsh work had not diminished my guilt or pain any, but only had served to add a tired body to a tired mind.  
  
I lie here and wonder for the millionth time, why had I said those things? Why couldn't I have just kept quiet, let things be, let things go?  
  
The hardest thing to think about is the fact that I had meant what I had said. I had not wanted him sauntering into my office, confident and beautiful, letting my entire firm know that we were an item of sorts. It had taken some time for me to admit it to my friends who I knew would accept me no matter what. But to let the world know? I have not the courage nor the incentive.  
  
My friends kept tabs on me, knowing for a fact that something was wrong, but they had not pushed too hard. I think they knew that the harder they pushed, the further I would withdrawal. Whoever said that misery loved company obviously has not met me just yet.  
  
Heero had said he understood. But did he really understand where I was coming from, what I was trying to say? Honestly, I doubt it. Unlike me who had to discover that I liked men in a very strange way late in life, Heero had time to get used to that facet of his life. He had time to adjust, to let others know and the like. I'm just barely muddling through what we have, knowing that it is special but not wanting anyone else to figure that out about me.  
  
I wish I could sleep some tonight, because I am tired of thinking. I am tired of being sorry for what I said, sick of feeling this goddamned guilt for saying something that was on my mind, and most of all, I am fucking sick and tired of bearing all the blame for this mess.  
  
It sounds awfully selfish, does it not? After all, who was it that blurted out insensitive things to his boyfriend? Who was the one that caused this rift in the relationship? Who was the one that decided to ruin something special?  
  
Believe me, I can already hear the recriminations. Let me tell you, I have been telling that to myself all week. I have called myself idiot, jerk, any and all bad names that women have called me until I met Heero. But now that I really think about it without work to distract me, I have to admit that I cannot be entirely at fault all by myself.  
  
It takes two to make a relationship work, so the logic must be that it takes two to ruin it as well. Yes, I said things that I should not have, but I was being honest. I was absolutely horrendous in my phrasings, yes, but the truth was that I was voicing my concerns. Did I not have a right to be afraid about my work environment? Did I not have a right to say that thinking about him all the time was making me crazy?  
  
And most of all, out of all people, couldn't Heero, a trained psychiatrist and my first boyfriend, understand that I could not make a flying leap into society announcing my ambiguous sexual preference?  
  
Damn it, I am making sense in a way that it is not making sense.  
  
Surprisingly, the next thing I know is that it is morning. The sun is streaming through my open curtains invitingly, tempting me to go outside even when I knew that the temperature was far below what it seemed. Damn the sun. When I'm this miserable, I expect the weather to cater to my heavy heart, not mock me with bright sunshiny days.  
  
Sunday, is it? A day engaged in watching a favorite sport on television, a day designated as a rest day by most religions and governments, a day designed to make you relax or have fun.  
  
A day when I have nothing to do to escape my frantic thoughts.  
  
I think I can learn to hate Sundays with an intense passion.  
  
Right after my declaration of hatred against Sundays is a brief thought that maybe I should call Heero today. Maybe I should apologize, I think, but for what, being honest? Maybe I should explain myself more clearly, I ponder, but I scratch that. Explanations are for the guilty, not for the not so guilty.  
  
And he could call me, I think with indignant bravado, at least to check on me or something. It was Heero who pursued me in the first place. He had been the one to take the first step in everything in our relationship because he was sure and I wasn't. In the least, he should call and tell me what I should say to him before I drive myself into a frothing insanity.  
  
I think on this tangent for a while, laying in my bed and watching the day go by out the window. A part of me wants to take the initiative and call Heero to clear the air, but a bigger part of me, the part that is filled with pride, refuses to take that integral first step to reconciliation. It is a tight bind and it is no wonder that I do not make an effort to move.  
  
When the phone rings, my heart drops into my stomach and starts beating at a dangerous pace. Could it be Heero, calling to say.. something, I don't know what and I don't care what. Or is it Quatre, or maybe even Wufei, calling to check up on me?  
  
Should I let the voice mail service pick it up or what?  
  
At about the fourth ring, I roll over in my bed and reach for the phone to check the caller I.D. at least. Technology has its good points.  
  
The number is familiar, but it is neither Heero or any of my friends. Instead, it belongs to someone I have not talked to in a long while.  
  
Mother.  
  
"Hello, Mom. How are you?"  
  
I can feel it coming, the inevitable guilt trip for not calling in a while. My mother, as much as I adore the woman, has a doctorate in making me feel like I am a five year old with skinned knees.  
  
"Duo! Thank goodness! I thought you might be sick, not calling for so long. You aren't working yourself to death, are you my little pumpkin?"  
  
"I'm fine, Mom," I reply, rolling my eyes and shaking my head, "so don't worry so much. I'm just resting today, okay?"  
  
My mother and I talk for a while, discussing such wonderful things as the weather, neighborhood gossip in her area and what she has been doing for the past few weeks. I get an earful about my father and his obsessive lawn war with Mr. Herick, their cranky next door neighbor. I also hear about Hilde, my mother's best friends daughter who is dying to meet me and date me. That is where I put a stop to the conversation.  
  
"Look, Mom, I'm really glad you found someone for me, but I'm seeing someone, okay?"  
  
Now, what possessed me to say that to my mother of all people? I must be losing it in a heinous way if I can say that to my mother without thinking about the consequences.  
  
"You are?" my mother shrieks, "and you didn't tell me? Who is she? Does she work with you? What does she do? Her name? How long?"  
  
My head whirls a bit from the amount of question my mother just presented in less than five seconds. Some people have told me that I take after my mother in speech patterns, but I don't think I can achieve her level of speed even if I tried.  
  
"I'll tell you later, Mom. I have to go," I say, madly thinking about an excuse that would let her release me from the interrogation, "because I have a date. With the person I'm seeing. Don't want to be late. Bye."  
  
My mother lets me go reluctantly, but I can feel the questions humming around her head, not to mention the happy little grandchildren dancing around her brain pan. She is most likely thinking about how I will marry this girl she thinks I am seeing and give her a passel of grandkids she could spoil rotten.  
  
I feel a bit nauseous. I hate kids.  
  
Even so, after I hung up with my mom, I suddenly felt better. If I had told my mother that I was seeing someone, I must be serious about it, right? It is true that I did not tell her that I was seeing a man, but I have good reasons. My mother and father are devout Catholics, even if they don't act like it sometimes. They'd die if they found out.  
  
Shit, yet another problem to add to my growing number of problems.  
  
But first things first. Patch things up with Heero. Then worry about the world.  
  
It sounds deceptively simple, but apologizing or explaining anything to a significant other is hard. The words become mangled in your throat and you feel as if everything you say is the wrong thing. At least, that's how I was feeling as I shakily dialed up Heero's number.  
  
"Hello, Duo."  
  
His voice sounded wonderful. I had not heard it in a week and I admit that I really did miss it.  
  
"Heero.. I thought we should talk."  
  
"Fine," Heero replied, sounding awfully formal, "I'll be over in a moment."  
  
I have approximately thirty minutes now to gather my wits and figure out what I want to say to Heero. I can do this, damn it, I have prepared closing statements in shorter time than that.  
  
But you know, being a good lawyer has nothing to do with being a good boyfriend. As smart, talkative and persuasive as I am in the court room, it helps me none when dealing with a hurt boyfriend.  
  
How funny is this, that my most trusted skill of verbal persuasion would choose to desert me when I needed it the most?  
  
I was still in the process of formulating a suitable set of strategies when there was a knock on my door, effectively putting a stop to my planning. Damn it, I only had a few strategies laid out at this point, but what could I do now? Therefore, like the man I am, I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, girded up my proverbial loins and courageously opened the door.  
  
And there he stood, looking rather marvelous in his tan slacks and an all purpose but still sexy white shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it all. His hair was slightly wind-blown, the brown strands wild and lawless on his head. But I believe that his eyes took my breath away all over again, just like the first time we met. Blue within the blue, so intense, so missed, and so pissed.  
  
Okay. Time to start Operation Make-up with your boyfriend.  
  
Strategy one: invite Heero in, be polite and distant. When he is formally ensconced on the couch, lead into a carefully constructed explanation of my behavior. At least, that is what I was supposed to do but my body took over my brain's rational functions and decided to hug Heero before he even entered the apartment.  
  
Strategy one, failure.  
  
I quickly removed myself from Heero's personal space, but I did notice a look of shock intermingled with softness. He followed me in, his steps swift and sure, but he refused to sit anywhere. Instead, he stood in the middle of my living room and stared at me. Perhaps, it was time that I moved onto Strategy two.  
  
Strategy two was much friendlier than strategy one, involving tea, soft words and calming hand gestures. Maybe my impromptu hug had set the stage for it, I don't know.  
  
"Heero," I begin, intending to ask him to sit and take some tea, "I can't believe you didn't call me for a week. It wasn't as if I was insulting you or anything."  
  
Did I just say that? Looking at the pole axed expression on his face, I think I just flushed strategy two down the crapper.  
  
"Shit!" I exclaim, waving my arms in the air, "I can't believe this! I invite you over so I can apologize or explain or something so that we can get back to being nice to each other and I blow it. That does it, I'm going into the kitchen and cutting out my blasted tongue before it does more damage."  
  
Resolutely, I march towards my kitchen with every intention of doing as I said, but Heero's hand on my arm stops me.  
  
"Duo," he says, his voice so much softer than what it had been over the phone, "I'm very sorry."  
  
Well, I have been rendered speechless and I haven't even cut the offending organ of speech out of my mouth. Heero had just.. apologized to me. And he is still speaking so I better pay attention.  
  
"I know that you are not yet used to having a boyfriend. I also understand that your work place is not the most friendly place for being.. um.. you. But I was hurt when you said it because I thought that you were ashamed of us."  
  
"Jesus, no, Heero," I say, my words tumbling out, "why would I be ashamed of you? You are wonderful. I'm scared to death of you, but ashamed? No."  
  
We smile at each other, both of us trying to dispel the tension. I lightly drag him to the couch and settle us down on the soft cushions, leaving a bit of space between our bodies so that we can discuss things like civilized people.  
  
"If you want to know, I admitted to my mother today that I was seeing you."  
  
Heero quirks his left eyebrow at me in a questioning gesture.  
  
"Your mother knows that you're dating a guy?"  
  
"Not.." I trail off, trying to phrase it so that there's no misunderstanding, "exactly.. I told her that I was seeing someone. And you know, I've never said that to her before so it's a big deal for me."  
  
"Thank you," Heero replies, a genuine smile lighting his face, "I know it's hard telling others, especially your parents. My mother cried for a week when I told her and my father didn't speak to me for months. Those were rough times."  
  
"Well.. I hope my parents take it as well as yours, then."  
  
"It is going to be that bad when they find out, won't it."  
  
I nod and twist my lips in a semblance of a grimace.  
  
"Even I can't imagine how bad it will be when I tell my parents about you. And as for my firm knowing.. I just.. can't."  
  
I hang my head at that, knowing that it was true and being sad about it. I am not ashamed of what we have, but I'm afraid of what will happen to my career. After all, love cannot fix everything and it is always more complicated in real life than it is in novels. Not everyone will understand what I feel for Heero. In fact, not even a quarter of everyone will try to understand what we have. With those odds, how can I risk everything I have worked for my entire life?  
  
"You know, Heero," I continue, needing to explain, "it's not a question of whether or not I think what we have is worth more than everything else in my life. You are not the kind of person who would ask me to give up what I have so that I can be with you. You won't make me choose."  
  
Now, where did that come from? Perhaps it came from something that has been bred into every human being longing for romance by society at large. Movies, novels, television, all those big influences of our lives tell us that love is the most important thing and one should be ready and willing to sacrifice all for it. But that's not real. Love, in that form, cannot be real.  
  
"I would never ask anything of you that would force you to give up what you hold dear, Duo. However, I will not stand by if somehow I am pushed aside for other goals in your life."  
  
"Thanks, Heero. Maybe one day, I will tell everyone about us. I don't know yet. And I promise, in the future, I'll try to say things less bluntly so we don't go a week without speaking."  
  
"Deal," he chuckles as he pulls me into his arms in a loose embrace, "and since it has been a week, I believe I'm allowed to say that I missed you."  
  
"Smart-ass.."  
  
We hold each other, comfortable in our newly found understanding. I know for a fact that we have not resolved every problem plaguing our minds, but for now, we let go of those nagging concerns and just enjoy being with each other.  
  
Being special.. what an odd thing, really. From the way I heard of it, I'm supposed to have met Heero and then have a happily ever after and a goddamned sunset. Instead, I have the reality of it.  
  
I wish someone could have told me that it would take a load of effort. I wish someone could tell me if it is really worth it.  
  
But I put those wishes aside and let myself relax. It's Sunday and I'm tired still from my hellish week. I should really get some rest before I tackle this beautiful, painful, silly and emotional thing called love.


	15. The Fourteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> okay, this part is a departure into non-reality in my book. i had to insert some silly drama.. and make things even more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

The weather has decided to take the turn for the worst this past week, pelting down cold rain and blowing winds from the arctic. It is late November, but I cannot help but feel that the weather is cheating me out of something wonderful, like clear blue skies that reach out into forever and tart temperatures that make me want to roast chestnuts.  
  
Usually, the weather would not effect me in such a negative way, but I am feeling less than charitable towards anything at all these days. It is a wonder for Heero and I seem to have made up and are now on speaking terms, if not kissing terms, once again and the stack of problems I have are crunched into a ball in the corner of my mind. Why should I be in such a horrible mood this week?  
  
I just have this feeling that something unpleasant is going to occur soon. Maybe it has to do with the fact that Thanksgiving is coming up and I have to go home. I know for a fact that many people appreciate the holidays and love going home for their mother's home cooked meals and their father's advices, and in the past, I loved it too. But this year, the thought of my mother grilling me about who I was dating and when they could meet her.. makes me want to run for the hills.  
  
And the closest thing to hills around here is quite a distance away, so I have a lot of running to do.  
  
My malaise must have rubbed off on my friends, I think, for they have become rather snappish lately as well. Trowa and Quatre had a little lover's tiff and it ended with Trowa spending a night at my place, grousing about the inability of his lover to understand his way of looking at the world. Wufei called in the middle of the work day on Wednesday to whine about the injustice that was women, especially wives.  
  
I am not the only one in the middle of a bad week. That made me feel marginally better since I do hate being the only one hating life.  
  
Funny thing is, I don't really hate my life. In fact, I like the various aspects of my life quite a bit. My work is going splendidly, my family is wonderful, my friends are out of this world and my boyfriend.. well, what can I say about him that is not positive?  
  
I just wish that some aspects of my life did not have to intersect with the other aspects.  
  
I realize that I wish for the oddest things, but I still have not figured out how to fit Heero, my work and my family into a working unit. I am not even sure if there is a way that I can. What would I say about Heero to my firm, anyway? I mean, it is a private issue so they should not have to know about it, but let's talk reality for a moment. What work place does not want to know everything about you? I mean, there is a reason why employers can track and read your email without legal repercussions. They want to know your personal business.  
  
More scary than that, what about my parents? I can't even come up with an excuse for keeping Heero private from them. He is an important part of my life, he takes up a lot of room in my mind and my heart, so why shouldn't my parents know about him?  
  
Massive coronary comes to mind, but never mind that.  
  
Yes, I guess I have not yet put my problems aside as I wished and I seem to be getting a case of ulcers from my stress. However, since there is no solution in sight, I must suffer in peace.  
  
Heero noticed that something was definitely off with me. My friends would have noticed too if they had not been so preoccupied with their respective problems, it was that bad. I wonder, does Heero ever not have problems or what? He seemed to be leading a fairly hassle free existence and it irked me.  
  
Today was a gloomy Saturday, much like the week that had preceded it, but I was in better spirits. Heero and I went out for some coffee which we both drank with an obsessive need, saw a mindless movie about a mindless person who followed an equally mindless plot and then came back to my place to kick up our feet and relax.  
  
That was when it truly hit me, why I was so damned touchy. It was not the parent problem or even the work problem, I have known about them for some time now and was beginning to get my bearings on them.  
  
No, the thing that bothered me more, the thing that I had not even recognized as bothering me, was the fact that Heero was so damned secretive. Oh yes, sure, I knew his favorite color to be purple, his favorite food to be anything with rice and his favorite lazy activity to be walking the park. But really, he had kept some vital shit from me that I had not kept from him.  
  
"Heero," I begin, finally coming to terms with the feeling in my head, "I know almost nothing about you still."  
  
He had the gall to smile at me and I had the nerve to melt in the warmth of it.  
  
"I don't know many things about you either, Duo, but that's why we keep trying to figure each other out, right?"  
  
"That's not what I mean," I say with a hint of frustration in my voice, "you know, I have never been to your place."  
  
"True." Heero says without a hint of emotion or even regret. Does he not realize that we've been dating for nearly three months and I did not even know where he lived? That cannot be normal.  
  
"I have never met any of your friends." I continue, unwilling to let his short answer stop me in my headlong ride into confrontation.  
  
"Also true."  
  
What was he trying to do, frustrate me to the point where I had to throttle him?  
  
"Your friends probably don't even know about me."  
  
I sound a bit childish and petulant, but I really can't help it. How important could I be to him if his friends had not even heard of me, if he had not even taken the time to mention me?  
  
"Not. True."  
  
Heero enunciated his answer carefully, looking into my eyes as he did so. His eyes blazed blue fire, as if daring me to contradict him. I felt relieved. He had mentioned me to his friends, so I could not be that unimportant. But what if he mentioned me only in passing as a friend or some guy he was kind of sort of seeing?  
  
Can I get any more juvenile?  
  
"So," I say quickly to hide my thought processes, "why haven't I met any of them? Why don't I even know their names? Are you hiding me from them?"  
  
He has the sense to look abashed at my line of questioning. I have a very valid set of points here, you know. Three months we've been dating.. Three months longer than any other relationship I have ever had.. hell, I told my mother about him in my own way and my friends know about him. My friends consider Heero as a friend of theirs, too. He was in my life in a very deep sense and had been from the beginning.  
  
So, why shouldn't I be in his life as well? After all, I should not be the only one trying to fit our relationship into my life. He should really try to fit me into his as well.  
  
"I didn't even realize," Heero begins, still looking a bit pained, "that I had not let you in.. I wanted to keep you to myself. My friends would only have intruded."  
  
Ouch. That, my friends, is cold. Why do I say this? Because as I said before, you do not ditch your friends for your new interest. Friends should not and would not intrude into a relationship, they would only support you.  
  
Isn't that right?  
  
"I'm sorry I have not been as open with my life as you have been with yours. I will make plans so that you can meet them."  
  
Could it be this goddamned simple? I say it, I unearth the problem buried deeply within my head and he just solves it with an apology and some words?  
  
I feel let down somehow. I was looking for a fight, the kind that has twitchy eyes, evil glares and ‘I can't believe you said that' kind of phrases. Why would I look for a fight when in the past every time we had a slight disagreement I felt miserable? I'm a fucking masochist, I think. I do love confrontations.  
  
"Right.. I can meet your friends. At least, you can start by telling me who they are."  
  
Is it just my imagination or does Heero look vaguely uncomfortable?  
  
"I.. hmm.."  
  
I quirk my eyebrow in slight surprise for Heero has been reduced to incoherent mumblings. For as long as I have known him, which isn't long but who cares really, Heero has not been verbal but has never been at a loss for words. Were his friends.. strange or something?  
  
"There's Relena."  
  
He said it like he was confessing to a terrible crime.  
  
"And she is your friend."  
  
"Yes." He says with faint traces of guilt in his voice. I can feel the nervous bunnies nibbling at my stomach lining.  
  
"And.. she's important to you."  
  
Gah, this is like pulling a perfectly healthy tooth with tiny forceps from a giant's mouth!  
  
"Yes."  
  
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and decide that more outward showing of curiosity was needed. I shoved him on his shoulders not too gently and gave him a look that bordered on murderous.  
  
"Tell me about her. I told you about Quatre, Trowa and Wufei, didn't I? Fair trade, isn't it?"  
  
"Before I tell you about her.. is it truly imperative that you meet her?"  
  
Heero sounded completely desperate there. As if my meeting her would end life as we knew it on this planet. What was it about her that made him nervous?  
  
"Look Heero, if you don't want me to meet her, why did you even tell me about her? You could've started with friends I had a hope of meeting."  
  
Anger and dread coat my voice, letting Heero know that I am most unhappy about this outcome. What is going on, anyway? I told him what was wrong, he said he'd fix it, and now he wants to find a way to back out from it.  
  
Even if I were not a criminal lawyer, I'd get suspicious.  
  
"Look, Duo," he replies, "I know this is coming across completely wrong. I mean, I have no objections for you meeting Zechs, or Noin or even Dorothy. But Relena.. well.. she's.."  
  
"She is.." I say in encouragement, "what.. scary? Disfigured? Too good for me?"  
  
Heero has his eyes closed, practically clenched shut. He is really, truly nervous about telling me about her and most likely frightened out of his mind about me meeting her. I feel the anger and dread leave my system, leaving only concern behind. What could be so damned bad that he had been reduced to this? Where was my confident, slightly cool but generously warm Heero?  
  
"Not any of that," he says, "not at all. No one is too good for you, if anything, no one is good enough for you."  
  
I'm feeling flattered, but I don't show it since I have this nagging feeling he is buttering me up for something bad.  
  
"The thing is, she's ill."  
  
"Oh?" I say very intelligently.  
  
"She has a very delicate physical and mental constitution."  
  
So Relena is not the healthiest of individuals, but would our meeting really tip her over the edge or something? I mean, I'm not all that unpleasant.  
  
"She thinks we're engaged."  
  
Hold the train, stop the presses, let me off this strange and nauseous ride. I rewind what Heero said just now and replay it over and over to make sure I had not imagined it.  
  
"Whu-a?"  
  
Heero looks chagrined and I know I look like someone had just punched me in the gut with brass knuckles.  
  
"She.. thinks we're engaged.. and has thought so for the past few years."  
  
"But you are gay!"  
  
Okay, I know how to state the obvious. But what a fucking shocker! Heero has a friend who thinks that they are engaged? What the hell?  
  
"I know," he says as he gets up to pace up and down my living room, "everyone knows, except her. We dated in college before I came out.. and she announced to the whole damned world that we were getting married. Then she became so damned sick and she kept saying that the only reason she could hold on was because I was there for her. She still says it. None of us could shatter that for her."  
  
At this point, I pinch myself to make sure that I'm still rooted in reality. I feel like I just leapt into a soap opera, cheesy plot lines and all.  
  
"And.." he continues in a low voice, "she lives with me."  
  
A short intermission must be inserted here for my brain has run away screaming to Tijuana. Can there be a shock so great that it superceded the shock I had when I found out I liked Heero? I had not thought so, but obviously, I was dead wrong.  
  
Just to clarify my current situation: I'm in love with Heero who has a pretend fiancée that happens to live with him.  
  
I'm surprised that my voice functions at all.  
  
"Please," I hear myself say very pleasantly, "if you would, get out."  
  
All said with a smile and a blank stare.  
  
"Duo, I have to explain this.. I meant to tell you, but.. it sounded so utterly ridiculous. It still does."  
  
"I repeat, get out please."  
  
If I have to say it one more time.. the smile is plastered frozen onto my face and my teeth are gritting so hard that I know I'm tearing off enamel.  
  
Heero is damned lucky that I'm in too much shock to be really angry.  
  
"I'm leaving, but promise me you'll hear me out. Please. I can't let you go, not like this, not in any way."  
  
I nod stiffly, still smiling. I watch as Heero leaves and I stare at the space Heero occupied for another hour or so more.  
  
What had just happened? I just wanted to meet his friends and become a part of his life. I wanted to be integrated into his space just as much as he was into mine. But no, I could not leave things alone as usual. I had to go looking for a fight and the end results.. just had to be devastating.  
  
So what if he is not really engaged? So what if he let his friend think that for the sake of keeping her alive or whatever?  
  
The fact was, he kept it from me. This huge, completely integral part of his life, had been kept secret from me.  
  
Now I know why I have not met his friends or been to his place. It was not that he did not think that I was not important, because he has let me know on several occasions that I was a big part of his life. No, it was because there were more important and pressing things in his life than me and I would have gotten in the way.  
  
Just like he got in my way for work.. with my family.. with my life plan.  
  
What can I do now that Heero has dropped this huge bombshell on me? Well, there is only one thing to do, only one thing I can do.  
  
It is time for me to go out and get absolutely, completely and utterly shitfaced.  
  
Thank god for bars.


	16. The Fifteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> this part is perty much angsty, but not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

The world was a blurry mesh of lights and sounds when Quatre found me swigging down some serious amounts of scotch. I suppose I called him some time during my drinking binge and said something or other because he was there, paying my tab and dragging my sorry ass out before I could even comprehend what was happening.  
  
I was shoved into Quatre's car head first and nearly bashed my forehead against the dash. Jesus, hasn't he heard of treating someone of my condition a bit more gently? I could have died from a fatal wound to the head just now.  
  
We were silent as he drove, but when we stopped at our final destination, I had to speak.  
  
"Not my place."  
  
Oh my.. I am so damned drunk that I can't even let out a complete sentence. That is never a good sign.  
  
"No," Quatre says with a bit of forced humor, "my place. You don't think I'd just drop you off at your house in your condition, did you?"  
  
"Well, why not?" I know I sound belligerent, but so what? I am not some kid who needs a babysitter.  
  
"Why not? Because you called me and told me you were going to kill Heero, that's why!"  
  
I roll my eyes as I climb out of the car and lurch towards Quatre's front door. Did I really threaten Heero's life and limb? I think I have just cause, but I'm not in the habit of making death threats. Well, not that often, anyway.  
  
Somehow, I make it to Quatre's living room without falling down and Trowa is there to immediately sit me down on my drunk ass. I can feel Quatre struggling to get my coat off while Trowa works rather patiently on my shoes. If I wasn't so depressed and drunk, I might have been amused.  
  
"So, what set you off tonight?"  
  
It was such a casual question that I think Trowa just said it to keep me distracted while they got me comfortable. I was not talking and that is an odd thing when I'm drunk.  
  
"Set me off? What am I, a ticking bomb?"  
  
I know my friends don't mean any harm, but I could not help but sound pissed at them. The whole evening had been a total shocker and I have not quite coped with the situation.  
  
"No," Trowa answers easily, "not a bomb. You are bombed, though."  
  
"And I damn well have the right to be fucking drunk!" I blare out, raising my right arm in a pumping motion to punctuate my ire. "How dare he live with her!"  
  
By now, my friends have finished undressing me down to my pants and shirt and they are both looking at me with the puzzled frown on their faces. They exchange looks with each other and then they both cock their heads in the exact same angle at the exact same time. I guess they just don't understand my situation.  
  
"You know," I say to no one in particular, "I'm in love with Heero. Is that just stupid or what?"  
  
"You're in love," Quatre responds with an understanding smile, "and you're scared, right?"  
  
"NO!"  
  
My voice definitely had a steep climb in decibel levels there.  
  
"Then what the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
Well, if I can get Trowa to lose patience with me, I must not be doing a good job of showing them just how unhappy I was at the moment. I try to gather my scattered thoughts and begin again.  
  
"Heero has an engaged person type thing."  
  
"A what?"  
  
They are still giving me that look of confusion coupled with concern. How am I not making myself clear? It's so damned picture perfect in my head.  
  
"Heero is living with her."  
  
A moment of silence follows and I am sure that they understand now.  
  
"He has a roommate?"  
  
Gah, these guys are so dense! What must I do to make them understand just what the hell is going on, draw it on paper and act it out?  
  
"Jesus," I say, losing what little patience I thought I had, "can't you understand a damn thing I'm saying?"  
  
With that, I go into full rant mode. I dare anyone to find a place within my rant where I could have taken a breath.  
  
"Heero has some girl living with him and she thinks they're engaged and she's all sick or something or other so no one has had the decency or the time to let her know that the boy is fucking gay and of course Heero has to be the goddamned knight on a white horse and save her so he can't invite me over or tell her about me or anything like that because oh no, she's gonna keel over and die or something and I have to feel bad that I can't tell my co-workers or my parents about him when he's got a closet fiancée all locked up in his fricking apartment!"  
  
When my rant finished, I just slumped forward in exhaustion, my head swimming in alcohol and the strange set of circumstances I found out earlier. I still cannot believe what I had said, but apparently, I have the truth of it.  
  
"I mean," I continue when I hear no responses to my tumultuous rant, "why couldn't Heero have a deep dark secret that I could deal with? Why wasn't it a dead body in his basement or a stalker keeping him awake at night? I can deal with those.. but.."  
  
I feel a hand on my shoulder then there is a darkness. I must have passed out.  
  
When I woke up, there was intense sunlight shining into my eyes and I was not comfortable in the least. First of all, I was cold, as in shivering in my damned pants and my left arm had fallen asleep sometime during the night. The pain in my head coupled with the needles running havoc on my arm made me moan like a pitiful kitten and that brought out a very concerned Quatre out to the living room.  
  
"Duo, are you okay?"  
  
I try to answer, but unfortunately, my mouth seems to be shut like a steel trap. I roll my tongue around in an effort to jump start my conversational skills when I have a sharp gag reflex. Oh, yeck, my mouth tastes like..  
  
I made it to Quatre's bathroom in two point four seconds, a new record.  
  
I suppose it is rather sad that every time something terrible or surprising happens in my life, I have the irresistible urge to go and drink it away. However, it is the way I deal with certain things. Some people run until their heart stops beating, some eat until their stomachs bloat to the size of Montana, and I hear that some people even bury themselves in work until they suffer a mini-stroke. Not I, though. I escape my strange life by drinking. I believe it is much healthier than my other choices out there despite whatever the surgeon general is spewing out these days.  
  
I drag my ass out of the bathroom and back into Quatre's living room to find him and Trowa waiting for me with some coffee. They definitely are great friends for they know exactly what it is that I need at any given time.  
  
They wait patiently as I sit, drink some coffee and get some color back into my cheeks. After a few moments, I feel marginally alive and almost ready to face reality sober.  
  
"So," I begin sheepishly, "how much of my psycho babble did you guys understand?"  
  
"Let's see," Trowa answers with a straight face, "Heero has a fiancée, the fiancée is a woman and not his fiancée, she is sick, he is a hero, they live together and you hate him?"  
  
Well, if that wasn't my dilemma in a nutshell. Trowa, being a freelance writer and all, has that gift of words where he can make any tragic situation sound somewhat normal and simple.  
  
"I can't believe it, Duo. How could he have kept that from you?"  
  
Good old Quatre, he can always be indignant and furious for me. Plus, with his golden hair and aqua eyes radiating sincerity, it comes across much more clearly if not more brutally than what I can do.  
  
"It's like I'm in the middle of a fucking made for T.V. movie of the week, Quat. One minute I'm looking forward to meeting his friends, next minute, the shit hits the fan at light speed."  
  
Quatre puts a comforting arm around my shoulders and squeezes to let me know that he is there for me. What would I do without these guys?  
  
"What are you going to do about this?"  
  
I shrug my shoulders helplessly at Trowa's query. I am truly clueless as to how to proceed from this point. Do I forgive? Do I forget? Do I hold a grudge and plan out where to hide the body?  
  
"I wish I knew," I say honestly, "because I have never imagined this kind of scenario before. Heero asked for a chance to explain himself, but a big part of me doesn't want him to say anything. I don't want to hear it."  
  
"Duo," Trowa ventures, "I know you must be very angry with Heero, but I don't think he kept it from you to hurt you. Imagine if you were in his shoes."  
  
"Are you suggesting Duo forgive him?"  
  
As I said, Quatre can do indignant much better than me. In fact, he is looking at Trowa like his lover had sprouted a new head.  
  
"No, not that. Just that perhaps Duo should let Heero explain."  
  
"Guys," I break in before Quatre and Trowa manage to begin a fight, "thanks for being here for me. The truth is, if I were in Heero's shoes, I would've told her a long time ago that we weren't engaged. I don't think it's very fair to her, you know?"  
  
"And not fair to you either!" Quatre huffs.  
  
"They say nothing's fair in love and war, my love." Trowa throws in rather smugly.  
  
"Yeah," I say, "and if this was war, at least I could have heavy artillery and a license to kill."  
  
Thankfully, my friends catch on to my need to stop talking about Heero and the woman and we drift our conversation towards safer things. Underneath the mundane chatter, I am still angry, shocked and hurt, but I will not let it get to me.  
  
When I finally get home, I am tired, kind of dirty and most definitely wrinkly. I should just keep a spare set of sleepwear at Quatre's or something, because I hate it when my nice clothes get disgusting from my drinking habit.  
  
As I step in, I see that the phone is blinking, relaying to me that I have voice mail messages just awaiting my attention. I have a feeling that some of those messages are from Heero, but am I ready to hear what he has to say? Frowning, I dig through my jacket and find my cell. It was turned off, but I had an inkling that when I pushed the on button, the display will tell me that I have messages there as well.  
  
Might as well bite the damned bullet.  
  
As predicted, my cell phone announces to me that I have three messages waiting for me and the caller I.D. shows that they are all from Heero. Then I dial the mail service on my land line and find that I have four messages on that one, and that the caller I.D. dutifully recorded all the numbers as Heero's.  
  
Either he was really in a deep need to talk to me or he has stalking issues.  
  
Sighing, I run through all the messages. Seven messages and they all sound the same. Heero's voice is strained and nervous, he needs to talk to me, please say I will call him as soon as I get the messages, just let him fix what he did wrong.  
  
And he is so damned sorry in each message.  
  
I erase all the messages and I sit on my couch contemplating my next move. I wonder if I should call or if I should even acknowledge that I received these messages. The decision, however, gets taken from me when my land line rings and technology informs me that it is Heero.  
  
I pick up on the fourth ring.  
  
"Duo," Heero begins hastily, "you're home."  
  
"No, I'm in Hawaii answering my landline."  
  
I can literally feel Heero flinch at my sarcasm.  
  
"I was hoping you would give me a chance to explain.."  
  
To my utter disbelief, I feel my heart lurch in sympathy at the pain present in Heero's voice. How dare my own heart betray me when I'm so damned sure that I was still angry with him? How dare I feel anything but bitter rage towards Heero when he had kept something so vital from me?  
  
"Look, Heero," I clip out, knowing that my voice sounds harsh, "words just won't make this right, okay? There is no way anything you say to me right now is going to make anything better."  
  
"I.. know, Duo, but I want to try."  
  
"But I don't want you to try, damn it!" I yell into the phone, "you want to explain shit to me so you feel better, so you can make yourself feel less guilt! Jesus, Heero, if I hadn't pried, were you ever going to tell me at all?"  
  
"I.. I'm so sorry, Duo" He falls silent after the apology, but I'm not finished with him just yet. I'm on a roll, don't you see?  
  
"Don't bother apologizing either, you already said it too many times! I need time to deal with this. I need for you to give me time. No words, no apologies, no explanations. I need time."  
  
"Anything, Duo.. as long as I can make this right with you.."  
  
He sounds so damned sincere.. so much so that I want to believe him. That makes me angrier.  
  
"Stop agreeing with me so damned easily," I fume, knowing that I am now unreasonable, "..and stop trying to make it right. I know I'm a damned hypocrite, you know? I'm keeping you a secret from my family and my work, I know! But not once did I lie to you, keep something from you."  
  
Only silent breathing answers across the line and I can almost see Heero trying to say something. But he can't say anything.. what is there to say?  
  
"So.. give me time. Don't call. Don't.. do anything."  
  
I am exhausted. The rage and anger have slipped through my system and all I have left is this intense need to lie down and forget. And still, Heero says nothing.  
  
I only have one more thing to say.  
  
"Bye, Heero."  
  
Then there is nothing but a soft click as I place my phone back in its cradle.  
  
Maybe I did it wrong, maybe I said some bad things, but this is the way it has to be. It has to be. I need time to think.  
  
I need time away. I don't need Heero hovering over me. I don't want to hear it.  
  
So tell me then, why am I, the tough and relentless criminal attorney out of his teens by many years, having the urge to cry?


	17. The Sixteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Thanksgiving. What a holiday, don’t you think? Supposedly, I’m supposed to give thanks for all I have gotten in the year, grateful for all I have. However, what am I supposed to be thankful for this year? The strange heartache that is eating away at me or the romance that I did not think was possible?  
  
I am in the middle of my four hour drive to my parent’s place out in the nice suburbia of the good old U.S. of A., bitterly thinking about my past week without Heero. As dictated, he had not called, sent me e-mails or done anything to keep me in contact. I had requested it from him, but the fact that he really didn’t call rested unhappily with me. I sigh as I put a little more pressure on my accelerator, making my lovely car go five miles faster. I am a damned contradiction, telling him not to call and still expecting it from him.  
  
I should put it aside, damn it. I am going home to spend time with family and I should not be bringing all this gloom with me. I should be happy with my days off from work, overjoyed at the prospect of eating a dead bird cooked to perfection and ecstatic at the chance to catch up with my only brother.  
  
I should not be lingering with my thoughts on Heero.  
  
I smile my first real smile since the day Heero told me of her when I spot my mother coming out of the front door to greet me as I get my stuff out of the trunk. She looks wonderful with her brown hair done up in a tiny bun, her blue eyes sparkling with contentment.  
  
“Duo, my baby, you made it! How was the drive? Much traffic? Did you bring that girl with you? Need help carrying your things in?”  
  
I cannot help the laughter that bubbles out from my throat. It is good to be home, I guess.  
  
“Mom,” I say between my chuckles, “give me a chance to reply. In that order, it was fine, not so bad, what girl and no.”  
  
My mother processes my answers as we walk up to the house. It is the house I grew up in, all mellow bricks and shingles, with vast amount of windows and a wrap around porch that did not go with the rest of the house. It was an unconventional house, but my parents had unconventional tastes.  
  
As soon as I step into the house, my father greets me with a hug and a pat on my back hard enough to send me pitching forward. He looks a bit older and I wonder how long it has been since I’ve seen him last. His beard has more white in it, his brown hair is streaked with grays, but his eyes are still the same. My purple eyes with more life experience and scattered humor smile at me as I return the hard hit to the back.  
  
“Hey, old man, you look good.”  
  
That is how I have always greeted my father since I went away to college and the comfort of tradition sits well with me.  
  
“Young man, have some respect for your aging father and get to your room.”  
  
I run up the familiar stairs to my room. Yeah, my room. It is still decorated like it had been when I was living here, with outdated rock group posters, comic books and random junk. It is a piece of my history that I often neglect.  
  
“Duo,” my mother’s voice floats up the stairs, “when you’re done unpacking, come down for some snacks, okay?”  
  
“Sure thing, Mom.”  
  
I am pretty sure that so far, all my depressed thoughts about Heero have not presented themselves plainly on my face. I just needed to spend four days with my family as if everything in life was grand and wonderful. I hate worrying them with my personal life especially when I could not give them details about my personal life.  
  
I was in the middle of putting away my clothes when I was jumped from behind by a pair of strong arms.  
  
“Little man, you’re home! Did you bring me anything cool?”  
  
Ah, yes, the joys of an older brother. Even at my age, the older brother can definitely make you feel as if you are still six. And more than that, he is still the coolest person you know.  
  
“Solo, do you mind? You’re wrinkling me.”  
  
My brother laughs, but he does unlatch from me to come around to face me. His blue eyes take me in from head to toe as if checking for injuries and then I’m surrounded in a bear hug.  
  
“Duo, man, I haven’t seen you in ages! Shit, you can’t be that busy right?”  
  
“Sorry, Solo,” I reply, meaning every word, “but it has been murder lately.”  
  
“That better not be a pun..”  
  
Solo mutters and then helps me unpack, making comments about my choice of attire as he does so. He makes fun of my sweaters, saying how one of them probably cost as much as his rent and then he eyes my pants like he could make off with them some time during the night. Then his eyes land on my brand new coat that I pull out of the bottom of my suitcase.  
  
“Damn it, Duo,” he exclaims, “that coat is awesome! Tell me you bought me one.”  
  
“Christmas is only a month away, Solo. Don’t get all greedy on me now.”  
  
It is an old running joke between my brother and me, the issue of clothes and other assorted things. I am much better off than he is, being a successful attorney and all. I rake in the money and I do have plenty of it. He, on the other hand, had some issues early in life which made him drop out of high school and go off on a ‘search-for-self’ mission for a while. That is a nice way of saying that he drifted from town to town until he finally couldn’t do it anymore.  
  
Yeah, he and I are totally different in our outlook of life. I am driven, he is not. I tore through college and law school with top grades, he just barely got his GED when he felt like it. I have a job with a large law firm, he is a mechanic in the same town we grew up in. Despite all the financial differences, though, at least we don’t resent each other for any of it.  
  
“How much does a coat like this cost, Duo?”  
  
Well, I don’t think he resents me, I hope.  
  
“That’s a Burberry. It’s about three grand.”  
  
“Three..” Solo trails off, a bit stunned, “three fucking thousand for a coat? Shit! What’s up with that?”  
  
I shrug as I take the coat from him to hang in the closet.  
  
“Really rare breed of cashmere?”  
  
We both laugh at my joke and then he ribs me about my education level, saying how all those years of schooling has not even taught me that cashmere was not an animal. Brotherly banter, nice and easy, right? But the situation with Heero must be making me a bit edgy because I swear, I sense a bit of something.. off with Solo. As if he was angry with me.  
  
Weird.  
  
We go downstairs after our unpacking and he pulls my braid like always. Then we race to the kitchen just like when we were both teenagers, our feet stomping loudly through the house.  
  
Our mother yelled at us just like back then when we got there, too. God, I’m getting all nostalgic.  
  
The comfortable feeling lasts until the dinner on Thanksgiving night, the turkey massacred at my father’s incapable hands sitting on the table long after we were done eating. But after the food always comes the talk and that’s when I feel decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
“So, Duo,” my mother rambles, “when are we going to hear about this new woman in your life?”  
  
If it was not so damned telling, I would have bitten into my nails. Thankfully, my father speaks in my stead.  
  
“Helen, don’t go pestering the boy. He’ll tell us when he’s good and ready.”  
  
“As his mother, I have a right to know,” my mother sniffs with a superior air, “and he won’t tell us squat until we drag it out of him.”  
  
I hear Solo laughing at my side and I know I’m blushing a shade of red that shames the cranberry sauce.  
  
“Mom,” I grind out, hoping to forestall questioning, “we had a really big fight not too long ago. We aren’t speaking. Can we not talk about this?”  
  
Immediately, I get sympathy eyes from my parents who nod knowingly. Solo, on the other hand, opens his mouth.  
  
“Duo, you actually have a female who does not cater to your every whim? You’re losing your touch, little man.”  
  
Ha. He has no earthly idea.  
  
“Stop picking on your little brother, Solo.”  
  
My mom must still think we’re little children, admonishing Solo like that. But that is the wonder of parents, is it not? They never believe that you are as grown up as they were when they were your age. To them, Solo and I will be eternally ten and eight, squabbling over who got to play with the G.I.Joes on a given day.  
  
The grilling of my love life does stop after I announce my depressing news, but it weighs on me for the rest of the weekend. Watching football with my father and my brother, I get flashes of brilliant cobalt colored eyes in my visual range. I hear a deep yet slightly nasal voice teasing me when I’m talking to my mother about my job. I feel hands encircling my waist when Solo and I rake the leaves in the backyard.  
  
I must be losing it.  
  
When Sunday finally comes, I’m almost too relieved to leave the presence of my family. It was not that I did not enjoy my time with them, but I suddenly felt as if I should talk to Heero. I could not do that with my family hovering around since they would have noticed something.  
  
See, I realize that even though I may not have forgiven Heero for keeping his secret from me, I want to forgive him somehow. I miss him, didn’t my flashes of Heero all through the weekend say something about that?  
  
My parents hugged me goodbye and I agreed to give Solo a ride back to his apartment. The ride back had some inane babble between us about sports and other masculine topics, but then it had to turn itself serious.  
  
“Little man,” Solo begins, “you really like this girl, don’t you?”  
  
I wonder if I should pretend as if I didn’t understand, but I decide against it. It is my brother.  
  
“Yeah,” I reply, “but the fight was really bad.”  
  
He shrugs his shoulders like he expected me to say that.  
  
“All fights are pretty bad when you really like the person. I’m thinking you are going back and working it out?”  
  
I nod in affirmative, but refuse to answer verbally.  
  
“Duo,” Solo says, his voice more serious than I have heard in a while, “you work it out if she means so much to you that she could make you zone out for four damned days without even being here.”  
  
I chuckle in embarrassment. I had no idea that I had been so obvious.  
  
“And bring her home to meet mom and dad. They just want to know the people in your life. Don’t..”  
  
Solo pauses and I tense up.  
  
“Don’t what, Solo?”  
  
“Don’t disappoint them. God knows I do that enough. You.. you are the apple in their eyes, you know? You can do no wrong. You, little man, are the perfect son.”  
  
My throat constricts and my hands grip the wheel tighter. Oh god, only if they knew..  
  
“We’re here.”  
  
My voice is raspy and my stomach is clenching tight enough to produce diamonds out of coal. Why did Solo have to say all that, lay all that shit on me?  
  
“Later, little man. Invite me down to your fancy digs sometime, okay?”  
  
“Sure thing, Solo. See you.”  
  
With the farewells said, my brother gets out of my car and I see him enter the door to his apartment building. Then I drive out of my home town as fast as I can, the demons spawned from Solo’s words haunting me all the way back home.  
  
“Solo,” I say to the emptiness of my car, “I’m not perfect. And the rate the shit is going, I’m going to end up killing them.”  
  
The rest of the drive is a hazy thing, my thoughts jumbling in a tangle of confusion as Solo’s words and thoughts of Heero intertwine. What am I supposed to do now, I wonder. Should I do as Solo says and not disappoint my parents? I mean, if I were to break it off with Heero, won’t this be the time?  
  
I am still pondering that question when I walk into my apartment holding my cell in my hand with Heero’s number on the screen. I should push send, either to end it or fix it. Whichever I choose, I need to talk to him.  
  
It isn’t until I have been home for a good hour that I push send and check the impulse to hang up before he picks up. For better or for worse, Heero picks up after the first ring like he has been waiting for me.  
  
Funny how my heart lurches at that.  
  
“Duo.”  
  
He breathed out my name like a prayer, almost as if he didn’t believe that I was calling. The mixture of relief and nervous tension hits me through the electronic space, telling me that Heero had been waiting by the phone for my voice for nearly two weeks.  
  
“Hey,” I say, noting that my voice is shakier than I wanted it, “how was your holiday?”  
  
Okay, I admit that that was a lame beginning, but I don’t know what to say. I still haven’t decided on the fate of us yet.  
  
“Good. Yours?”  
  
So we do small talk for a while, each of us feeling out the other’s emotional space with empty words and pregnant pauses. Neither of us can say what is really on our minds, not yet, but at least we’re talking.  
  
However, it is during this useless small talk that I receive an epiphany of sorts. Some time during Heero’s explanation of the bad weather conditions near Oregon, I realize why it was that I stuck with Heero even after all my doubts and mistakes. It was the same reason that Heero stuck with me after everything I had done wrong.  
  
Special. Remember that, Duo Maxwell you ninny? I wanted it so badly and I found it in him. He saw it in me from the first moment. That was why I could not let him go, why he waited for me to call.  
  
That is why I must forgive him.  
  
“Look, Heero,” I say as soon as the epiphany passes, “come over now. We are going to work this out.”  
  
I hang up without waiting for him to answer because I know for a fact that he’s coming.  
  
He is coming to reclaim what is special.  
  
And I’m going to do the same.


	18. The Seventeenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> sap? off kilter humor? ramble-fest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Some would say it is reasonable for me to feel a bit nervous at the prospect of having it out with Heero, but I cannot accept that. I refuse to bounce from nervous tension at our upcoming confrontation, discussion or whatever it is going to be after all, this time, I'm in the right and therefore have the upper hand.  
  
Having the upper hand means I have the advantage, the control, so I should be fine. Then again, this isn't like a case or a deposition. This is my love life on the line, the only love life I have known with any meaning attached to it.  
  
Heero knocks on my door a scant ten minutes after I hung up on him and I am pretty sure that he sped and broke some major traffic laws to make it in that time. That gives me some extra measure of confidence because it means he really wants this to work out as well. If we are of the same mind about the outcome, not much should go wrong, right?  
  
When I open the door and finally see him standing there with a winded look about him, I discover once again why it was that I found him so special. It wasn't just how good he looked, but how he could make me feel better just by being there. When that had occurred, I'm not quite sure, but somewhere along the way, Heero had somehow made himself indispensable to my peace of mind.  
  
Sneaky bastard..  
  
"Hi." He says in greeting, his tone slightly hesitant and his body language shy and uncertain. It seems as if he's bracing himself for rejection and I take pity on him.  
  
"Come in, Heero. We have lots to clear up."  
  
Heero walks in without his usual confidence, his steps nearly faltering as he passed me. I gestured toward the couch in an implicit order for him to sit down and he complied without any objections. It was about then that I should have begun speaking, but I found that my mouth was mutinying.  
  
Cobalt eyes filled with trepidation and concern stared at me as I tried to get my voice to cooperate with me. Heero did not attempt to speak first at all, leaving me to begin the conversation and set the mood. It was my call, my prerogative, so what does my brain decide to convey to my vocal cords?  
  
"Do you want something to eat or drink?"  
  
Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, even though I could have said anything at all without any fear of recrimination or retaliation, I decided to go formal. Formality, in case you were wondering, is the armor of the insecure and the uncertain.  
  
That should not have been me.  
  
"Uh, sure," Heero responds a bit confusedly, "whatever you have available.."  
  
Honestly, I do not think he wants anything to eat or drink because if he was feeling half the roiling emotions I was feeling, he should have been quite nauseous. But as I said, formality, courtesy, and stiff social mannerisms cloaked those intense words bubbling just beneath the surface.  
  
In a bit of a daze, I wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge to comply with Heero's request. It was then that I realized that I had just returned from an extended visit to my parent's house and my fridge was not in any condition to serve guests.  
  
"Urm.. Heero.." I mutter in embarrassment, "I think I can offer you.. water.. from the tap."  
  
"That's just fine." He replies with alacrity. I suppose at this point I could have offered him rat poison with a side of absinthe and he would've taken them.  
  
"I don't mean to be rude," I continue on, my mouth running off without my permission, "but I don't have anything deemed edible in here. I have something that could be considered a colony of new life forms, I think that thing in the corner may have gained intelligent life and.. oh Jesus, I don't even want to know what is in this box.."  
  
I could have continued indefinitely, telling Heero of the massive wrongness that I had perpetrated on my fridge by neglecting it for so long, if I had not heard a sound that I had missed. I heard him laugh.  
  
It began as a chuckle, really, a soft but tingling sound that floated through the air. The sound grew louder and merrier until it was a full fledged laugh, the beauty of it invading my kitchen like an army of flower petals, washing over me and settling my soul.  
  
"I missed that," I say as I walk out of the kitchen, "the way you laugh."  
  
Heero looks at me with this gentle sparkle in his eyes, but it lasts only a moment before it is replaced by an apology. I suppose he thought that the laughter was inappropriate considering that he was here so that we could work out some serious issues, but the truth of it was.. his laugh had already smoothed over so much of the emotional turmoil within me.  
  
For the hundredth time, I have to wonder how it is that Heero can make everything okay with just a simple act.  
  
"I missed you as well. Almost too desperately.."  
  
He said it so softly that I thought I had imagined it for a moment. But it was not my imagination it really was Heero, sitting there looking somewhat desolate and hopeful on my couch, telling me that he had truly, desperately missed me.  
  
How can I fight against that?  
  
"So.. I am still pissed, you know."  
  
"I know," he tells me, "and you have every right."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
For a short second, I can see Heero contemplate that question, turning it over in his mind, trying to find the correct way to answer. I let him think, because I want his answer to be complete, honest and.. informational.  
  
"At first," Heero begins, "I didn't say anything because you were so unsure about your feelings for me. I did not wish to drive you away before we could begin. Then when you finally came to terms with me, it was so new to you that I didn't want to give you reasons to doubt me. And when I realized just how much I had fallen for you and that you wouldn't leave me, I was afraid to give you something that could have destroyed what I had so hoped and longed for.."  
  
That is the thing, you know? For some reason, all throughout our relationship, I had always assumed that Heero had it under control. To me, Heero had always been so damned confident about us, even when I was acting the fool. Sure, I knew he had some insecurities, but I had presumed that he knew how to deal with them accordingly, that he had no paralyzing fears about us. Not like me.  
  
But assumptions lead a person astray, and I followed its twisted path all the way. Heero's confidence in us.. it must have been tempered greatly by the presence of her in his life. Everyday, he must have been tormented with the secret, not knowing how to tell me, not wanting to know how I'd react to it. He would spend time with me, relaxed, content and happy then go home to the girl he did not want.  
  
"It must've hurt, Heero.."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
He looks confused and that is a rare occurrence in my book. Usually, it is I who is confused about everything, not Heero. He is the one who is supposed to be the expert on the inner workings of the human psyche and emotions, for he guides others through the mess that is in their heads every day. But I have stumped him with my cryptic remark.  
  
"I mean," I explain as I kneel down by the couch to stare into his eyes, "you must have felt so much damned guilt.. for not telling me. And so much fear that I'd.. do exactly what I did. All that time we were together.. you had it bottled up inside you, didn't you?"  
  
His eyes brightened and his hand on the arm of the couch tightened until I thought the knuckles would burst forth from the skin. He looked.. shell shocked.  
  
"I was so damned angry that you'd deceived me. I kept thinking that if you cared about me, you would have told me. I told myself that if I were in your shoes, I'd have told her the truth if only to be fair. I thought of you badly, calling you names, cursing you. But in all that time, I never paused to think that it hurt you. I failed to see how much you feared telling me. I'm sorry for that."  
  
I was not ready for Heero to lunge out of the couch to hold me at all. Had I been prepared, I may have not dropped that silly cup of water that I had forgotten about in my hand. But once I felt him hug me close, I did not care about the water soaking into my carpet.  
  
"Duo," he breathes, "I'm the one who is sorry. I should have told you from the beginning, whether or not I was afraid of losing you. You deserve so much better than this, more than what I have given you."  
  
Well, if that doesn't make my heart melt with sentimental goodness.. oh, but wait, I'm still mad at him. Yes, we still have to resolve that tiny issue.  
  
"Heero," I say into his hair, "what I deserve or not is a question you cannot answer. So, that aside, tell me why I should stop being angry with you."  
  
I am nothing if not blunt, but it does cut through a lot of the crap sometimes.  
  
"Because I love you."  
  
It was one of those moments in life where everything came to a complete stand-still, a small piece of time when all things froze in their exact place. The earth stopped rotating and skidded off its axis, taking me on a wild ride, spinning me out of orbit as the words settled into my brain.  
  
I think I expected Heero to tell me that I should not be angry at him because I did nearly the same thing with my parents as he did with her, each of us keeping the other a secret from the more vital people of our lives. I was ready to hear him make parallels and start justifying his decision in light of mine, arguing with me logically and reasonably.  
  
Not in a million years would I have expected Heero's sudden and heart stopping declaration of love. I mean, I admit to myself that I'm in love with the man on a regular basis, but I had never, ever said it out loud, always afraid that he would not feel the same. The fear had clamped me from voicing my tentative feelings. Then all of a sudden, in the wake of a terrible revelation, apology and reconnecting, Heero decided to give me a heart attack.  
  
"You what?"  
  
Imagine the most awkward moment of your life and multiply it by a hundred and then you get the situation I'm in currently. This is the frozen tableau: Heero and I are interlocked in an embrace, our arms nearly cutting off circulation below the fifth lumbar vertebrae. He declared his love for me in the most inconspicuous voice, and I answered with shock and disbelief.  
  
Why can't someone write me a goddamned script so that I don't fuck up when someone declares that he loves me?  
  
"I said," Heero says with a tinge of humor, "I love you. So, please, don't be angry. I can't bear it any longer."  
  
I finally come to my senses and push myself away from Heero to look at him, my eyes taking in every critical detail of his face. His voice sounded like he meant it, but what of his eyes, his face? I search desperately for a sign that he was telling me the truth and I find them in abundance.  
  
He really does love me.  
  
And I just pushed him away. Ah, shit, I did it again. I realize my mistake too late for Heero is already trying to hide the pained gleam in his eyes with a half-assed apology.  
  
"I.. I shouldn't have said that, it was completely inappropriate.."  
  
Oh no he can't, damn it! He cannot tell me he loves me and then feel sorry about it, I absolutely refuse to hear that shit.  
  
"No, no," I tumble out quickly, "don't be sorry. It's my fault. You caught me by surprise."  
  
"Oh." That is all that he says as he kind of crumbles to a sitting position on the arm of my couch. I must make amends for my verbal slip before Heero becomes too despondent to hear me.  
  
"This is almost ridiculous, you know?" I say to lighten the mood, but realize that I did more damage than good when Heero slumps further. I should really learn to control the impulse in my brain that forces me to say things before I think them through completely.  
  
"I mean," I continue, "look at us. You love me and I love you.. and we have the weirdest situation on our hands. You have a fiancée who doesn't know you're gay and I have parents who'd die if they found out that I had a boyfriend. Oh shit, my parents! They are going to disown me after they recover from apoplexy, I just know it. And you! That girl is going to die on you if she knew. What the hell, I knew love would be complicated, but this is utterly stupid."  
  
I'm so busy thinking about the consequences of our relationship to the people in our lives that I almost miss this transformation of Heero's face. The look of sadness and disappointed dreams seeped away from his beautiful face, leaving behind this glowing, translucent visage in its wake.  
  
"You.." Heero clears his throat and starts again. "You love me."  
  
Oh. I replay the words I spoke and realize that I had said it. Really said it. I'll be damned.  
  
"No shit, Heero. Why else would I risk the health of my family?"  
  
We stare at each other for a while after that, lost in the moment. You know, I never imagined that I'd tell another man I loved him, let alone in the fashion that it had happened. Although I gathered from my friends and various books on the topic that declarations of love happened spontaneously at the most unexpected times, I never thought that my moment would be this fucked up.  
  
But you know what? Despite all that, it was still perfect. How odd.  
  
"So," Heero says softly as he gazes into my eyes, "what do we do now?"  
  
Yes, indeed, what do we do now? The love is there. The desire to be with each other is certainly present. The will to work it through is also in attendance.  
  
But what can we do?  
  
I don't know and I'm pretty damned sure Heero doesn't know either. But we're smart people, aren't we? We should be able to figure it out, right?  
  
Oh god, I hope so.. because I really am in love with him.


	19. The Eighteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> saaaaaaaaaaaap, christmas bashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Have you ever noticed how giddy people get for weeks on end after someone they love tells them they love them? Well, I'm not one of them. Perhaps it is that I'm too damned masculine to ever qualify as giddy, or that I lack the proper sentimentality organs to feel such a silly emotion, but whatever the reason, I was not giddy.  
  
That is not to say that I was not happy about it, only that I did not dance around my office in a haze of rose petals and fluffy feathers singing ‘he loves me' in falsetto. Besides, we still had some major kinks to work out of our relationship.  
  
After we told each other of our love, the relationship kicked back into gear. Heero called me often, we talked, we went on what we loosely termed as dates and we did some serious kissing and groping whenever we got the chance. In some ways, we were like teenagers, all excited about each other yet forced to hide our activities to those around us.  
  
During this time of interesting bliss, Heero and I did have our occasional talks about the fiancée problem as well as my parental issues. Our analytical brains whirled in light speed trying to come up with solutions that did not involve anyone dying, falling into a coma or causing a massive trauma to a major organ.  
  
Suffice to say, we came up with nothing.  
  
So, the weeks went by until Christmas was staring at us in the face. That alone brought forth more demons and boy, was I not ready to deal with them.  
  
Yeah, I'm talking about the horrendous ordeal known as Christmas shopping.  
  
I have never quite figured out what enchants certain people when shopping and mall are mentioned within the same paragraph. My mother alone could buy out an entire shopping complex had she the money and every Christmas time, she is out making vendors happy by single handedly running the capitalistic machine. I don't know how she does it, really. The woman hardly can walk a mile on the treadmill, but when she is out shopping, she practically walks a marathon distance.  
  
Not to mention, she buys everything in sight.  
  
Not I, though. I hate shopping, it gives me the willies. Seriously. All those people, especially over holiday times, can get very scary. Nice, mild mannered soccer moms turn into raving lunatics with razor claws in the women's clothing department. Gentle, urbane men become frothy at the mouth raiding the lingerie store. Children who are already the bane of society transform into absolute monsters who cut lines and make high pitched noises in the video games section.  
  
What is there to like about holiday shopping in a mall or any place occupied by human beings?  
  
That is why I love the internet. Ever since the internet became open for shopping, I was on board. I swear, I do all my holiday shopping on line and am ever grateful for it. I have a hard enough time going out to stores to buy things I know I need, let alone browse with the masses of people who would cut my throat if I touch the wrong ‘on sale' item.  
  
Anyway, why am I babbling about Christmas shopping when I should be pondering about the ways to extricate myself and Heero from the Relena-Parent Trap? Because I haven't the faintest fucking idea what to get Heero for the damned holiday, that's why.  
  
It was easy enough to shop for my friends because like every year, I asked them what they wanted from me. Quatre had requested that he was in need of some sporting equipment so I ordered him a top of the line tennis racquet. Trowa had wanted some books and had given me a list of them so that I could order a bunch of them from a book vendor on line. Wufei and Meiran were still in short supply of some house hold goods so I got them a fancy, custom made coffee table. All on line, all done in my boxers.  
  
My family was equally easy. I bought my parents a cruise package in the Caribbean as they had wanted and my brother was going to receive the most state of the art DVD player on the market. It was all settled. I should have been done.  
  
But you see, I have never shopped for a significant other before this year, so I was stumped with Heero. The main problem was that I felt as if asking Heero what he wanted was a bit crude. Am I not supposed to surprise him with the most perfect gift or something or other? Should I not have some deep instinctual feeling about what he truly wanted on this most commercialized of holidays? Isn't it a fact of romance that whatever I get him, he will think is the most precious thing in the world?  
  
Oh sure, if you live in the freak world of romance novels.  
  
In reality, I have no idea. Truth be told, I don't even know what Heero already possesses, let alone fathom the deep, lurking desire within his heart.  
  
And in any case, I always figured my significant other would be a woman whom I could appease with diamonds and furs, not a man who would be aghast at such gifts.  
  
Therefore, my options were quite limited. I could not ask Heero what he wanted directly nor could I blindly guess. The only thing I could do was somehow unearth that fact from him without him guessing my true motives.  
  
Of course, there was a snowball's chance in hell that Heero would not notice since he was the master of observations and human behaviors. Yeah, I'm pretty much stuck.  
  
This weighty question of what I should buy Heero for Christmas pressed hard into my brain and it distracted me often. In fact, it distracted me enough that Heero noticed.  
  
"Duo, are you okay?"  
  
I shake my head out of the debate of whether Heero was a toaster or a toaster oven guy enough to look at him in the eyes. Then I'm reminded that we are currently at a lovely restaurant having filet mignon with a bottle of pinot noir on the side.  
  
"Fine, just, um.." What to say, what to say.. "I just have some things on my mind."  
  
Nice save, Maxwell.  
  
"Oh?" Heero says as he raises his right eyebrow, "anything I can help with?"  
  
"Not really, don't worry about it."  
  
Then I change subjects deftly and we have a nice time without me getting distracted. Much.  
  
We finished dinner on a pleasant note and headed back to my apartment for some time alone. It was a chilly yet lively Saturday night with people out about the well lit and decorated city. There were lights just about everywhere, enough so that we did not need the moon to light the way. Oh hell, it seems like this city is burning half its electricity quota on these street lights.  
  
Then again, I suppose it is rather romantic, walking through a city lit by cheerful and mellow lights with your boyfriend. I should not take Christmas so personally because I'm sure the holiday isn't there to give me a migraine.  
  
"Duo," Heero says as we make our way to my apartment, "are you still thinking about whatever it was that had you staring like a fish during dinner?"  
  
He sounds somewhat perplexed but amused, as if my constant mental sidebar was unusual in some way. It is not often that I take my full attention away from Heero when we are out, that is true, but my head is filled with Heero. He can't really blame me for being distracted when he is the cause of it.  
  
"It's nothing," I lie rather glibly, "so don't bug me, okay?"  
  
"If it's nothing," he counters just as lightly, "why have you been so spacey lately?"  
  
Good point.. but I can't talk to him about it since he is the issue. Thankfully, we come within the block of my apartment and I make a stupid excuse about being cold so that I could sprint rest of the way. I duck into my building about fifteen yards ahead of Heero and wonder if that sprint made him more suspicious. Probably.  
  
Once we were in the warmth of my apartment without our coats and shoes, I made some tea while Heero fiddled on the remote control. Recently, we had come to the conclusion that we both despised holiday specials on television so it was hard for him to find anything worth watching. Between all the reindeer, elves, children and Jesus, television was conspiring against us.  
  
"Turn that off," I say as I hand him his oolong, "or you'll get sick from all the holiday gooeyness on it."  
  
He grimaces and agrees with me.  
  
"Something about Christmas inspires people. I cannot help it that we're not those people."  
  
True, true. I think both of us are far too old and too immersed in the nastier side of humanity to really understand the miracles that people love about this time of the year. I mean, last Christmas, I had to make an emergency run to the city jail because a client of mine had killed his wife in holiday cheer. Yeah, he had too much egg nog and decided that he had not liked his wife's gift of a wrench set so he had ended up beating her to death with it. How wonderful, huh?  
  
I quickly change the mental direction so that I won't have to think about such depressing things.  
  
"Heero," I ask, "what are you doing for Christmas?"  
  
That brings forth a fresh grimace and Heero looks positively ill.  
  
"I have to go with Relena to her parents' home for dinner. It has become a damned tradition."  
  
"I see.. her parents think you two are engaged as well?"  
  
"Oh hell no," he responds with uncharacteristic ire, "they know perfectly well which side of the line I fall. But they play along so that Relena won't have a relapse or something. Thank god that at least I have Christmas Eve free from them."  
  
I pat his shoulder in sympathy. It must be bad to have fake in-laws on top of a fake fiancée.  
  
"My brother's coming into town for it," I tell Heero, "since my parents will be swilling pina coladas on a cruise ship."  
  
It is then that Heero really looks around my apartment with a critical eye as if he is expecting to find something. He does this for a long time and I wonder if something is missing.  
  
"You don't have a tree."  
  
That startles me. I never thought about a tree.  
  
"You mean the Christmas tree ordeal?"  
  
"Yes," he says, still looking around, "you're catholic, so I thought you'd have one."  
  
"What does being catholic have anything to do with a tree?"  
  
That makes him pause for a moment before he turns his rueful grin at me.  
  
"Nothing, I suppose. But I pegged you for a Douglas fir type. With many outlandish decorations."  
  
"Are you kidding me?" I say in outrage, "do you know how much work it is to get one of those things in here? Not to mention all that decorating and clean up afterwards? I don't have time for things like that."  
  
That is as truthful as it gets. Trees are a whole lot of time and effort, even the little baby ones. Not to mention, they keep shedding needles, making me pull out my vacuum cleaner on a regular basis.  
  
"So you're not a tree guy. Are you a presents guy?"  
  
Could it be that Heero has just given me an opening to pry out of him what he wants for the holidays? I hope I can work this to my advantage.  
  
"Of course I am," I say flippantly, "I already did most of the shopping."  
  
"I as well. Although, I must admit, you were a tough one to shop for."  
  
Gah, he already bought me something? I mean, here I am still agonizing over what to get him and he was already done? That is so very.. unfair.  
  
"You are tougher to shop for, Heero Yuy, you damned inscrutable bastard.."  
  
He laughs at my sour face and then leans in quite suddenly to kiss me. Spontaneity is a wonderful thing and I feel the emotions surge up. Being kissed by Heero is an experience that I find hard to describe. When his lips touch mine, I feel as if I'm soaring and drowning at the same time, peaceful yet painfully aware. My head spins and my heart pounds, blood heats and skin tingles.  
  
It sounds cliché and corny, I know, but it is the way it is.  
  
We part from the kiss a bit shorter on breath but a whole lot happier and spend a few minutes smiling foolishly at each other. Moments like these keep me from minding the fiancée and take away the problem of my parents. Heero and his kisses.. they erase the bad things from my world and make me anew with each touch. Indeed, I'm immersed to my eyeballs in special.  
  
"So.." I say softly, still looking into his eyes, "what you get me for Christmas?"  
  
He laughs and kisses me again, probably to escape from answering, but do I mind? Not at all.  
  
"What did you get me?" I ask again when we break for some oxygen.  
  
"Persistent, aren't you?"  
  
"I am a lawyer, Heero. You wouldn't believe how persistent I can get."  
  
We share a laugh and he leans down to kiss me again. Oh, I wanted the kiss, believe me, but no way he's escaping twice. So, I gently shove him until there is some space between our bodies. He reluctantly moves, his face a study of carefully concealed humor.  
  
"What, no more kissing?"  
  
I roll my eyes at him and give him another shove, only a bit harder.  
  
"Of course there will be more kissing. But answers first, Heero. What did I get?"  
  
"Good lord," Heero breathes out in exasperation, "can't you stand a bit of surprise?"  
  
"No way. Last time I was surprised, I spent a week in trial."  
  
He sits there and acts like he is contemplating whether or not to tell me, but I can see the glint in his eyes. He will not tell me, the little jerk.  
  
"I'll tell you," he says to my surprise, "if you tell me what I'm getting."  
  
Okay, then. I believe I just dug myself a nice little trap with teeth at the bottom of the hole.  
  
"I'm not telling."  
  
Yeah, that's my brilliant response. But what else can I say when I have nothing to offer him at this time?  
  
"I'm not telling either then."  
  
Here we are, two very well educated men, both of us with advanced degrees under our belts, and that is the best we can do as a debate. If this continues, I'm sure we'll be slugging mud at each other calling the other cootie-heads. Can't have that.  
  
"Okay, we'll drop the damn subject," I say with a bit of a huff, "but you come for Christmas Eve and meet my brother."  
  
Oh, wait, did I just say that? Did I just invite Heero over to my house for a holiday to meet someone from my family?  
  
"Of course, Duo," I hear him say with joy in his voice, "I'd love to meet your brother. And I'll bring Zechs and Noin, if you want to meet my friends still?"  
  
At this point, the wheels in my head have come to a grinding halt as I try to see when and how I decided to invite Heero over to meet my brother. Oh shit, what was I going to say to Solo? How the fuck was I planning on introducing Heero? Oh hello brother dear, I want you to meet my boyfriend and yes, I seem to be gay, merry Christmas?  
  
But I don't let the panicky shock show. I created the mess.. I'll fix it.  
  
"Sure Heero, bring your friends. It'll be a party."  
  
I guess that made Heero happy because all of a sudden I have an armful of my boyfriend trying to suck the tonsils out of me. At any other time, the kiss would have blanked my mind as I fell into the bliss of it, but right now, I'm too busy thinking about the disaster that Christmas Eve is going to become.  
  
At times like this, I want to believe in god just so that I can pray.


	20. The Nineteenth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> religion talk, sap, weeeeeee angst  
> dedication: to dacia. because i don't think i've told her lately how much i adore and appreciate her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Normally, Sundays are very comforting to me. I relax and generally do nothing, mostly because I'd be suffering from a hangover, but not this Sunday. Oh no, this Sunday, I have some serious dilemmas eating away at me and causing ulcers in my stomach. What I wouldn't do for a hangover instead of this panic..  
  
I cannot believe still that I invited Heero over for Christmas Eve. With his friends. To meet my brother. I can already feel the impending doom closing in on me. I can see the end.  
  
What do people do when they sense the end? They go to god, of course. And hence here I am, a catholic who does not believe in god, in a church on a Sunday morning. I'm in a suit, tie and shiny shoes and all, just like I used to dress when I was fourteen and my mother was dragging me to church every Sunday. I am here to find answers.. or at least to talk to someone.  
  
I open the door to the confessional and step into it, breathing deeply and mentally preparing myself. I sit on the hard seat and watch in fascination as the screen is opened, revealing the silhouette of my confessor.  
  
Now, what was that I am suppose to say in these boxes of forgiveness? Oh yeah.  
  
"Forgive me father for I have sinned."  
  
And have I ever.  
  
"It has been.." I trail off to count in my head, "uh.. something like ten years or so since my last confession.."  
  
"It is okay, my son," says the voice of absolution without the face, "for God forgives all transgressions."  
  
"He does, really?"  
  
"Yes, my son," comes the patient voice, "He is infinite in His forgiveness."  
  
"So it's okay that I work to acquit murderers."  
  
"He forgives, my son."  
  
Right. I wonder if the priest has anything else to say except that pearl of wisdom.  
  
"I.. uh.." I think quickly, trying to think about all the things that this particular religion thought of as a sin. "I have a boyfriend."  
  
"I see."  
  
Is it me or does the priest sound somewhat disturbed?  
  
"I.. oh hell, I'm not really here to confess.. I just want to rant at someone I don't know, I think."  
  
"I'm here for you, my son."  
  
Man, is this a priest or a goddamned recording? Oops, add blasphemy to my list of sins..  
  
"Look, father," I say, completely shedding my pretense of a repentant prodigal worshipper, "I have a boyfriend and I love him. I wanted to tell my family about him someday, but I stupidly made someday into Christmas Eve. Now, my brother's going to meet him and I can almost picture the scene.. it involves hospitals, police reports and Miranda warnings."  
  
"Go on, my son."  
  
Well, at least he's listening.  
  
"So, I've been wondering.. according to the bible, there's supposed to be an Armageddon or something real soon, because it didn't happen with the Y2K deal. Do you think you can ask god for an apocalypse before Christmas Eve? I mean, it doesn't even have to be a big one, just a little, minor one so my brother can't make it or something. Oh, I can deal with an earthquake, even. Give me something to work with here, Father."  
  
Well, as you can imagine, the silence was deafening. I suppose lots of people come into the confessional ready wheel and deal with god, like forgive me this transgression and I'll do the rosary for a day kind. I might be the first person in here who has asked for an apocalypse to avoid a Christmas Eve dinner.  
  
"My son," comes the hesitant voice, "I sense that you are in great turmoil, and I know that God will guide you through it."  
  
Then the screen shuts and I get the feeling that I should leave the little box. Yeah, I wore out my welcome at a church. I annoyed a priest enough that he literally kicked me out of the confessional!  
  
You see the depth of panic I must be in to have done this? For me to go to church and wheedle a priest for the end of the world, just so that I didn't have to have my boyfriend and my brother in the same room at the same time?  
  
I sigh dejectedly as I step out of the church. Well, that was a complete waste of my time and I'm pretty sure the priest is somewhere in his room downing whiskey , muttering about the crazy people who wander into confessionals. So, what's the other option when god fails you?  
  
You go to your friends and hope that they don't laugh at you.  
  
Couple of hours after my incident at the church, I found myself sitting on Quatre's couch. Quatre and Trowa were blinking at me with odd expressions on their faces while Wufei and Meiran who had come at my urgent request were trying their best not to laugh.  
  
"You.." Trowa began in a strangely hitched voice, "asked a priest.."  
  
"I know," I say, forestalling him from finishing the sentence, "that's how desperate I am. What do I do, guys? What can I do?"  
  
"Why not just introduce Heero as a friend? I'm sure he won't mind."  
  
Well, leave it to Wufei to come up with the logical solution. However, that was not what I wanted to hear.  
  
"Wu, it's not that he won't mind.. it's that I will."  
  
Yes, and there is the real problem out in the open. I don't want to introduce Heero as my friend to anyone anymore. He doesn't deserve that from me. Sure, I am not going to introduce him to my parents for a good long while, maybe until I'm gray in the hair and using dentures, but at least then I wouldn't be introducing him as a friend. See the twisted logic there?  
  
"So you want Solo to know that you have a boyfriend?"  
  
Ah, Quatre, sometimes, you let your blondness show a little too much.  
  
"No! I don't want anyone to know yet. I'm not ready for that level of stress. But I honestly don't think I can just say that Heero's a friend. It.. sounds wrong."  
  
"You're so in love with him." Meiran says with a soft sigh and dreamy smile.  
  
"I am. So, what do I do?"  
  
It was a plea, a heartfelt cry out for help. I think by now my friends understood that I would not chance hurting Heero's feelings yet again by uninviting him and that I would not say that he was just a friend. I don't know, it would be so much easier if I could introduce Heero as a friend to Solo. I know Heero would understand and his friends would probably play along with some advance notice, but I didn't want to do that to him.  
  
And just in case you were wondering, I'm not even thinking about what I'd be introduced as if and when I meet Relena.  
  
"Your only option is to be honest with Solo." The voice of wisdom otherwise known as Trowa spoke finally and three other heads nodded in assent.  
  
Oh, sure. After ten minutes of intense thinking, that's the solution that my friends come up with. Honesty.  
  
"And you guys will be there to clean up the bodies after I'm honest?"  
  
"Duo," Quatre says gently, "why are you so certain that it won't turn out well? Solo loves you. He would understand, I think."  
  
"Quat, I know my brother, okay? He thinks.." I pause for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. What was I trying to say here, really?  
  
"It's just that," I continue valiantly, "he's so proud of me. He thinks I'm perfect. I think.. it would crush him to find out that.. I'm.. I'm.."  
  
"I would think," Wufei interjects, "that he'd be happy for you for being in love."  
  
"Only with a woman."  
  
There is a somber silence as we all contemplate the words out in the open. The thing is, why am I so convinced that Solo won't take the news well? He has never shown anything against homosexual relationships, but then again, he had never had to deal with it up close. He knows about Quatre and Trowa, but he never really got to know them that well. What would he do when he found out about me, his only brother?  
  
"So," Quatre says to break the silence, "what will you do?"  
  
"What I have to," I sigh, trying to face up to what will happen, "I guess I'll tell him."  
  
With that, I said my good-byes and left four very concerned friends chasing me with their eyes. I didn't want to go back home, so I wandered around the city for a while. I walked with the crowd, occasionally pausing at a window to stare at the merchandise just for show and kept walking. I wondered if any stores sold body bags and if they did, how many I might need for Christmas Eve.  
  
I don't know for how long I walked, but it was dark when my cell rang. I must have been out for hours.  
  
"Hello." I say rather dejectedly into the phone without even checking the caller I.D.  
  
"Duo, where are you?"  
  
"Heero," I moan into the phone, "I need you."  
  
As soon as I say that, I realize that I really want him near me right now. I had been so damned dejected worrying about the Christmas Eve party, thinking about it too hard and too much. I needed a little cheer up, and Heero could do that by just being there.  
  
"Of course," comes the immediate reply, "where?"  
  
I look around and see to my surprise that I'm actually standing in front of my apartment building. How and when did I get here?  
  
"My place. Now."  
  
"I'll be right there."  
  
I walk into my building feeling slightly better. Heero was on his way to cheer me up. Sure, I couldn't really spew out what was bothering me to him since he was a large part of it, but he could sit with me, relax with me. He could calm my raging brain and help me forget for a while that Christmas Eve was coming up shortly.  
  
I was laying on my couch with my eyes closed when there was a knock on the door. I was too tired in mind and body to get up to answer it, but my sense of peace was on the other side of the door. I needed it. I needed Heero.  
  
I may have surprised Heero by just falling into his body as soon as I opened the door, but he recovered quickly and settled me on my couch. He touched my head as if to feel for my temperature and I took advantage of the closeness to press my lips to his for a kiss. He returned it tenderly and my mind finally found the peace that it was searching for all day. With a touch of his lips on mine, I let go of the anxiety and the uncertainty that had been eating away at me and settled into a floating bliss.  
  
We kissed for a long while, but I don't know for how long. Time tends to stop when I kiss Heero.  
  
"So," he says to me when our lips finally part, "what's bothering you?"  
  
Oh, only if I could tell him..  
  
"It's nothing, really."  
  
"Bullshit," he says, startling me, "you would not have called me here like that if it was nothing."  
  
Well, I guess I acted sort of out of character there with the whole ‘I need you' bit.  
  
"You're nervous about me meeting your brother, aren't you."  
  
Jesus, why do I even bother trying to hide shit from Heero? He's a damned mind reader, haven't I learned that by now?  
  
"I am," I admit, "because I'm going to introduce you as my boyfriend."  
  
I definitely rendered him speechless with that declaration. I don't think he was ever hoping, not even in his wildest dreams, that I would be telling my brother that he was my boyfriend. He looked stunned, then the most beautiful and glowing look of joy came over him. God, he's so beautiful.  
  
"I love you."  
  
He said it so damned reverently, softly, like it was a prayer of his deepest heart. I may still be nervous as hell telling my brother about him, but that cemented my decision to be honest with Solo. How can I possibly introduce someone like Heero who could tell me he loved me in the most heart rending voice as just a friend?  
  
"You better remember that after my brother stabs you with the shrimp fork."  
  
"I'd brave a hundred shrimp forks for you."  
  
We burst out into laughter at that and I feel an immense weight lift from my shoulders. Imagine that. God couldn't give me an apocalypse, my friends couldn't give me answers, but Heero could give me everything I needed with simple words.  
  
"You know, Heero," I say without really thinking, "maybe this can be my Christmas present to you since I don't know what to buy you."  
  
"Oh, really?" He replies with humor in his voice, "so me getting hospitalized by your brother is a gift now."  
  
"I didn't really think of it like that," I admit. "Oh, fine, I'll buy you something, you materialist. So there."  
  
"You don't have to."  
  
"I will so shut up about it."  
  
We lapse into a companionable silence after that and just lay on my couch together with his head on my chest and my arms loose around his shoulders. I feel the tension of the Sunday drain out of me and my eyes start drooping. After all, the day had been a bitch until recently.  
  
"Duo," I hear my boyfriend say, "you're falling asleep."  
  
"I know," I say over my yawn, "but I'm tired."  
  
"Tomorrow's Monday." Heero points out rather pointlessly.  
  
"Don't remind me."  
  
"We have to work tomorrow." He continues despite my objections.  
  
"I said," I try to say sternly, but too tired to make my voice obey me, "don't remind me."  
  
"So I was thinking," he continues, "it would be a bad idea for me to sleep here."  
  
"Mmm hmm." I grunt out, too tired to really pay attention to Heero's words by now.  
  
"But I'm going to sleep here."  
  
"Sure, whatever."  
  
Had I been more awake, I might have been nervous, shocked or something. But I was so tired and Heero felt so comfortable and warm laying on the couch with me. Therefore, all I got to do before I drifted off was to enjoy him being near me when I fell asleep.  
  
I think.. no, I know that I smiled the whole night.


	21. The Twentieth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> a lag before the explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I have had sex with god knows how many women, but I have never actually slept with them. I did not cuddle, I did not stick around after the act, there was no such thing as spending the night. All that stuff was really personal and private, so I had never had the urge to do it with any of my female companions.  
  
Therefore, when I woke up early on Monday on my couch with Heero draped on me, I was utterly surprised. At first, I couldn't recall how and why we were sleeping on my couch, together, entwined, you get the picture, then I remembered that he had decided to stay with me. That sent a whole army of warm and fuzzy feelings tingling up my spine and I just watched him sleep for a while.  
  
To be honest, I have not actually seen someone sleep in a long time, especially not this close. Heero's head was on my chest, his hair tousled and tangled about his head, snarling on the buttons of my shirt. I felt him breathe softly, his chest impressing into mine with every little breath. I saw the rosy glow on his cheek, the way his hand grasped loosely at my braid that lay near his face.. it was all very sweet.  
  
Until I noticed that he was drooling. On my braid.  
  
In an instant, I was up and out of the couch, cradling my sodden hair with a horrified whimper in my throat. In my haste to protect my braid, I dropped Heero onto the floor in an ungraceful lump, waking him up in the rudest and the most unpleasant way possible. But damn it, this is my hair we're talking about!  
  
"Ow.." Heero says in the way of a morning greeting, "if this is how you wake up every morning, I'm not sleeping with you again."  
  
He raises his head and stares at me rather balefully, like him ending up on the floor face first was my fault somehow.  
  
"You did not sleep with me!" I reply, absolutely incredulous, "it should be me saying that to you! Look what you did! See?"  
  
At that point, I crouched in front of Heero's still prone form and shoved my wet, droopy braid into his face, wagging it around like a battle flag.  
  
"It's icky! And wet! I thought you loved me!"  
  
Heero just lay there, staring hypnotically at my hair being waved around his face, his eyes following the movement side to side. At first, he looked confused, as if he had no idea what I was talking about, then suddenly, it was as if he had an epiphany.  
  
He laughed.  
  
"Oh, did I do that to your hair?"  
  
"I don't see anyone else around here who slept on me the entire night, do you?"  
  
"If it wasn't me, I hope he's gone by now."  
  
The utter incredulousness of the situation renders me speechless. I take stock of the morning and realize that this is absolutely silly. Here I am, twitching my hair at my boyfriend whom I tossed onto the floor. Sure, I had good reasons for everything, but that did not make this situation any less silly.  
  
"Well," Heero grunts as he picks himself up off the floor, "I don't know about you, but I have some crazy people waiting for me at work."  
  
Oh, yes, it is a Monday and I have my own set of crazies awaiting my arrival.  
  
"If I didn't have work, I'd take the time to really make you sorry."  
  
My voice promised retribution at a later date, very ominous and dire, but it only made Heero smile bigger.  
  
"I wait for the day."  
  
I snarl not too pleasantly and look over at the clock on the mantle. It was only six thirty in the morning and I did not need to be at work for yet another two and a half hours. No wonder I was feeling snappish, it was way too early in the morning.  
  
"Get going, Heero, isn't Relena waiting for you?"  
  
Perhaps that was not the right thing to say for Heero's face went from smiling at me to frowning deeply in a moment's time. I think, despite my apparent nasty nature early in the morning, he was enjoying our first morning together. He had been bantering with me, smiling the whole time, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. I'm pretty sure that it was not exactly what he imagined it would be, what with getting tossed off the couch and all, but still, I think he was loving it.  
  
Until now, anyway.  
  
"Right," he replies, his voice lower and more serious, "I purposefully forgot about her last night. Now I have to go home to change and explain where I was all night."  
  
I shake my head as I extend my hand to help him stand. I give him a pinched look, my eyes clearly conveying just what I thought of that.  
  
"Heero, you are so fucking whipped."  
  
"I know," he replies without rancor, "and it makes me ill, more than it makes you mad. I have to fix this soon."  
  
"Absolutely," I say in good cheer, "and I'll make some reservations at the hospital. You and I can have beds next to each other. Oh, and I'm sure Relena and Solo will bring us lovely gifts for putting us in there."  
  
"You're taking this awfully well."  
  
"I have already condemned myself for Christmas Eve. I fear nothing."  
  
On that note, I leaned into Heero and gave him a chaste good morning kiss which also served as a good bye kiss. When he tried to deepen it, I backed away and playfully pushed him towards the door.  
  
"Heero, I love you, but there is no way I'm letting you kiss me like that before the brushing of the teeth ritual."  
  
"What," he says as he smiles once again, "can't brave a bit of morning breath for love?"  
  
"I do have my sensibilities."  
  
He laughed, gave me a wave and stepped out of the door, wrinkly clothes and jacket in hand. I stared at the closed door with a goofy smile for a bit, then got myself together to step into the shower. After all, I still had Heero's soggy germs incubating in my hair.  
  
When I got to work, I was early due to the fact that I had gotten up before the sun had risen, but I didn't mind it one bit even though it was a Monday. I was in a fairly good mood, having woken entangled with Heero, and was ready to face the day with a smile and a twinkle. Well, that did not last very long.  
  
Around lunch time, I actually realized that it was only two days before Christmas Eve and my anxiety level climbed up several notches. Sure, it had been easy enough to forget with Heero calming my naturally high strung self, but by myself, at work no less, it was easy for my imagination to run wild at the potential disaster of the future. I tried many things to get my mind off the impending dinner, from working very hard to surfing the internet for Heero's presents. Let us just say that nothing really worked and I was a wreck by the end of the day.  
  
The next day, I fared no better as the anxious tension within me rose yet another level. My co-workers noticed that I seemed more nervous than usual and gave me sympathetic nods, chalking my strangeness up to the holiday blues. My secretary took extra care to make sure that I ate and made meetings on time. The only times that I felt the tension drain was when Heero or my friends called me at the office to take my mind off things and even those did not last very long.  
  
I suppose it is fair to say that when I woke up on the day of Christams Eve, I was ready to bury myself beneath a large pile of blankets with no plans of facing reality.  
  
Oh, but there were many things to do, so I had to get up and force myself through it all. I had to set up the dinner, clean up the apartment, call Quatre and Trowa to wish them a merry holiday, run over to Wufei and Meiran's for a drink before they ran off to a family dinner and call Heero to clear up some minor time changes in the day.  
  
There were many details that I tended to during the day, enough so that I had not the time to really think about what was about to happen. That reality crash landed on my face when my brother arrived.  
  
Around four in the afternoon, just as the sky was beginning to show signs of dimming, there was a distinct knock on my door. A tap, tap and rest then a tap. My brother had arrived and it was about to begin.  
  
"Little man!" My brother greets me with enthusiasm as he hugs me breathless, "it's good to see you again."  
  
I nod, hoping that the look on my face is inviting, not sickly, and usher him into the apartment. Solo follows, hefting his small duffel at his side, and whistles as he steps into my home.  
  
"Man, Duo, did you get a new entertainment center?"  
  
"Yeah," I reply, thankful for some mindless chatter, "I picked up the system last May. Pretty cool, isn't it?"  
  
We talk about electronics and other manly things as I lead him to my spare room. There was nothing but work there, computer desk and piles of papers taking up all available space, but it was the only space I had in which Solo could drop his things off. After all, we had guests coming and I couldn't have him setting up shop in the living room like he always did.  
  
After settling Solo into the room, we stepped out into the living room to finish setting up for the dinner. I had five places set as per the number of people to show up for this dinner party, and Solo asked me who they were. To anyone else, it would seem an innocuous question, but in my current state of mind, it was like he had asked me something else entirely.  
  
"Uh," I hesitate, not truly knowing what to say, "Heero, Zechs and Noin."  
  
I figure that name giving was the safest course to go about it. I was hoping to introduce Heero to him as my boyfriend when there were witnesses around. Call me paranoid, but I really didn't want to tell Solo when we were all alone.  
  
Thankfully, Solo just nodded and went about bringing out the food from the kitchen. I guess he thought they were just friends of mine and had no real desire to know about them before he met them. That was a good thing, for Heero was a dangerous topic and I had no idea who Zechs and Noin were.  
  
Time ticked by as Solo and I puttered around, my brother seeming relaxed and I getting wound tighter as each second passed. By the time I heard the knock at the door, I was ready to pass out from all the self imposed stress.  
  
"Hey, your friends are here, little man."  
  
So they are.  
  
I opened the door and the first face I see is Heero's, smiling a bit weakly but happily. Behind him were two people I assume are his friends and they were eyeing me curiously.  
  
"Why don't you come in."  
  
If I look as bad as I sound, Solo may not need to kill me. I just may pass onto the next world on my own.  
  
Three somber faced people stepped in, Heero tossing me a look of barely concealed concern and the other two nodding at me somewhat sympathetically. I suppose Heero told his friends about what was about to happen to their Christmas Eve. After all, how fair is it to invite people to a Christmas Eve dinner without letting them know of all the pertinent facts?  
  
"Hey!" my brother breaks into the unseen tension cheerfully, "I'm Solo, Duo's older brother. You guys must me his friends, huh?"  
  
I was about to garner up my courage and spill it all out, but I was beaten by one of Heero's friends, a guy with long, platinum blond hair and ice blue eyes in an impeccably tailored suit.  
  
"Yes, yes we are," he says, his voice smooth and cultured, "I'm Milliardo Peacecraft and this lovely young lady is my fiancée, Lucrecia."  
  
As the three of them exchange handshakes and pleasantries, I wonder about the introduction. I thought Heero's friends' names were Zechs and Noin. Had he brought the wrong set of people?  
  
"Please call me Lucy," says the lovely dark haired woman, "and don't pick up on Heero's habits and call me Noin! It's rather annoying."  
  
"Yes, that's correct," Milliardo breaks in with a laugh, "and don't call me Zechs either. It's a silly nickname left over from college."  
  
There was a round of laughter, a definite sign that Milliardo, Lucy and Solo were getting along famously, while Heero and I stood slightly off to the side and watched the show with a pleasant surprise.  
  
"Heero," I say in a low whisper to avoid being heard by anyone else, "maybe this evening won't be so bad?"  
  
"I hope so," Heero says in an equally low voice, "because those two really want to get to know you."  
  
Just then, Solo turned and came walking towards us with Milliardo and Lucy in tow. My large living room suddenly seemed very tiny and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic.  
  
"So, you're Heero, right? I'm Solo."  
  
Okay, very friendly and open, so I'm guessing that Milliardo and Lucy did not tell my brother that Heero was more than just a friend.  
  
"Yes, hello," I hear Heero reply with a bit of a tremor, "how are you?"  
  
Trite greetings, banal small talk, boring questions. Usually, I truly hate those things, but right now, I was hoping it could go on for a long while. But then again, everyone had been introduced already and it wasn't as if Solo was asking me what my relationship to Heero was. I mean, is it truly necessary to jump in now and say 'by the way, brother, did I mention Heero's my boyfriend?'  
  
I conclude that it isn't and so without having revealed the nature of Heero and my relationship to Solo, the five of us sit down for dinner. The meal is almost pleasant, with all of us talking about something or another and I think that maybe, just maybe, Christmas Eve has been salvaged and I have managed to escape the doom.  
  
Right, and there really is a Santa.  
  
"So, little man," Solo says as we nibble on the dessert, "where is that lady you are dating? You two make up yet?"  
  
I don't think Solo noticed, but everyone at the table suddenly tenses up at the question, most notably me and Heero. I could no longer think to escape me telling Solo. It was now or never.  
  
"Well," I say, noting that my voice is not its usual pitch, "there's this issue.."  
  
Solo grimaces a little and wags his fork at me in an admonishing gesture.  
  
"Little man, don't tell me you did not apologize."  
  
"No, no," I say, panic close to the surface, "I did, we're all good now."  
  
"And.." Solo trails off in an indication that I should pick up the story.  
  
"And.." I pause, taking a long drink out of my wine glass, "and.. you're sitting next to him."  
  
For a long moment, Solo looks confused. He first stares at Heero who is sitting next to him by the way, shakes his head and stares at Lucy. Lucy frantically shakes her head in a negative which is echoed by Milliardo and Solo's eyes switch back to me, then to Heero, then to me.  
  
That goes on for a while and then understanding suddenly dawns in Solo's eyes.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
The chair Solo had been occupying gets knocked over as he stands suddenly, his hands on the table and his face a study of incredulous disbelief. Everyone freezes like deer caught in a head light and I bravely face my brother with a wan smile.  
  
"Say hello to my boyfriend, Heero, Solo."


	22. The Twenty-First Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> angst, potty language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Ever heard of the short phrase deadly silence? How about quiet enough to hear a pin drop? Familiar with any of those? Well, apparently, Solo was not at all acquainted with any of those adages because he went off on a rant. As soon as it sank in that I was not dating a woman but a man who happened to be sitting right by him, all hell broke loose.  
  
Let me tally just what I think might have happened. Solo pounded on the table with each incoherent word, making the dessert forks bounce in cadence with his rage. Heero slowly edged away from Solo and his flailing limbs, most likely to avoid becoming a permanent member of the emergency ward. Lucy and Milliardo watched in avid horror as Solo escalated in volume of words and decibels, while I just sat there as my brother turned red in the face. Through all this, I could not discern a single, coherent word because Solo was too shocked and angry to use actual words of the English language.  
  
After what seemed to be forever, Solo must have run out of steam and breath because he just stopped in the middle of the tirade. As in, one minute he's screaming and spraying spittle in my face and the next, he was quiet. Really, terribly quiet.  
  
I looked warily at my brother in the uncomfortable silence as he breathed harshly. His body seemed entirely supported by his arms which were pressed down on the table with such tension that I could hear bone snapping while his head hung low. I wanted to see his eyes, I had to see if he was truly as angry as he had seemed.  
  
"Solo," I ventured when the silence became unbearable, "are you okay?"  
  
As expected, there was no answer from my brother. I did, however, score a look of chagrin from the rest of the occupants of the dinner table, most especially Heero. The silence fell again after my failed attempt at trying to smooth things over and I had no idea where to go from there. I did not know what to say, what to do, to make this situation all right with everyone. Perhaps coming out to my brother during Christmas Eve dinner had not been my most stellar idea, but it was done. I was ready for the consequences.  
  
Wasn't I?  
  
"Erm.." I said into the tension, "thanks for coming to the dinner. I'll.. uh.. call. We should hang out some more.. Bye. Merry Christmas."  
  
Lucy and Milliardo took my offer of an escape gladly. They hurriedly tumbled through some trivial good byes and wishes of a good holiday and practically ran out of my apartment. I do not blame them for leaving as they did. I am just surprised that they did not run as soon as Solo heard the news. Heero, however, frowned a little and refused to budge, not even when Lucy motioned for him to follow their intelligent move to leave. He sat and crossed his arms obstinately in front of him, ready and willing to face the wrath of Solo with me.  
  
Honestly, the fact that Heero was willing to brave this out with me warmed me considerably. He would stay by my side, only if to cart me off to the hospital after Solo was through with me. It was very thoughtful of him, but this was my brother. I would deal with him on my own.  
  
"Heero, you should go." I said softly, adding ‘please' with my eyes.  
  
The stubborn look faded from his eyes when he saw the look in my eyes, replaced by a deep concern. He opened his mouth to argue, changed his mind when he saw me pleading quietly with him and just sighed.  
  
"I'll talk to you tomorrow."  
  
Heero nodded and edged around Solo who had yet to move. He reached out his hand as if to give me a reassuring touch, but then he thought better of it. Neither of us really knew what would set Solo off again, but we both silently agreed that touching would not be a good idea about now. With another sigh, Heero gave me one last look of worry, picked up his coat and left.  
  
I do not know how long after everyone left that Solo and I refused to move, but it was long enough for me to feel a cramp ride up my calves to my knees. Even then, we were unable to make a move, neither of us knowing how to begin what was about to come.  
  
I think I mentioned before that I solve all my problems with alcohol, right? Why should now be any different?  
  
"Want a drink, Solo?"  
  
My voice is raspy, but the nervous anxiety is gone. By now, I think I am too tired and numb to have any emotions.  
  
"Yeah," my brother actually replies, "bring the damned bottle."  
  
With that, Solo pushes off the table and stalks over to the couch. He falls into the seat rather than taking a seat and I can hear his joints pop from the kitchen as I retrieve a bottle of scotch.  
  
I join my brother on the couch and pour us a finger of scotch which we both down like a shot. I pour another then another. We drink as if it was the end of the world, not pausing between the drinks to even take a breath. Around our seventh drink, I wonder if I should have bothered with the glasses at all since it would've been more productive if we had swigged from the bottle.  
  
We finish the bottle in record time and I silently thank the gods that the bottle had only been half full. If it had been a full bottle, we both may have had to go to the emergency room for sibling stomach pumping, something we did not need. But I can feel the alcohol cruising through my system, turning my lips and fingertips numb.  
  
The alcohol also seems to have drained some tension out of Solo's shoulders because he slumps forward slightly. Normally, I would reach out and joke with him about his inability to handle liquor as well as I, but I cannot do that now. Instead, I watch as he digs out a cigarette from his pack out of his pocket and light it.  
  
The smoke exhaled by Solo clouds and drifts in my living room, leaving little trails before disappearing. I stare at the dance of the smoke with slightly bleary eyes before reaching for the pack myself. It is not often that I smoke, but I think this situation warrants it.  
  
"Thought you quit, little man."  
  
Startled that Solo had spoken, I choke a little on the cigarette and cough out a series of cloudy smoke. When I no longer feel my lungs seizing, I answer.  
  
"I cut back, not quit. Quitting is for losers."  
  
"Yeah," Solo says as he pulls from his cigarette, "but that's the least of my worries."  
  
We fall back into silence, but the ice had been broken. What would come next?  
  
"Little man," Solo sighs, "how could you?"  
  
"How could I what?" I answer, my voice tinged with bitterness, "be in love?"  
  
"Don't get fucking defensive on me. I'm not the one who decided one day to be gay."  
  
Well, if things aren't just progressing rapidly downhill.  
  
"Yeah, that's right, Solo," I say, heat of anger evident in my tone, "one day, I suddenly woke up and said, oh lookie, I'm fucking gay."  
  
"Shut the fuck up! You.. how could you? Is this your idea of a joke? Jesus, Duo, you have a boyfriend! You are a goddamned fairy!"  
  
At this point, I abandon all semblance of composure.  
  
"Oh yeah, that's right, Solo. Why don't you tell me some more what the hell I am because lately, I can't seem to tell! Do you think this is easy for me? Do you have any idea the shit I went through when I.. I.."  
  
"When you what?" Solo yells, nearly standing in his rage, "when you decided to like dick?"  
  
"Fucking Christ! Why are you so damned convinced I chose this? I didn't! If I could have, I would have loved a woman, if only to spare myself of this crap. It just happened, goddamn it. I met Heero and it just happened."  
  
I lose steam and I can feel the frustration coil within me tightly. What can I say to make this right? Why must this be so difficult?  
  
"Just happened?" Solo growls, leaning closer to me, "shit like this don't just happen. You don't fucking ruin your life without deciding to do it."  
  
"Ruin my life?" I say, my voice filled with disbelieving confusion, "how the hell does this ruin my life?"  
  
"Your job! Your family! Your fucking life!"  
  
I can't reply to that, because those are the things that have been in my mind ever since I started being with Heero. Our relationship could have serious repercussions, like now for example. I knew this, I told myself all this, but finally, right now as Solo stares at me with murder and betrayal in his eyes, I see what I should have seen.  
  
"Heero.." I begin softly, "isn't going to ruin my life. He won't let himself do that."  
  
"No, of course not," Solo answers sarcastically, "because you're doing a hell of a job on your own. A boyfriend. You. Do you have any idea how wrong that sounds?"  
  
"It is not wrong! Jesus, Solo, what is so damned wrong about being in love with Heero?"  
  
"Everything!"  
  
"You're the one who's wrong, Solo," I say, my voice rising along with my frayed temper, "I thought it was wrong at first, but it isn't. Do you know he loves me? Do you know how happy I am when I'm with him, that he makes me feel okay just by being there?"  
  
"You are fucking crazy," Solo replies, equally angry, "listen to yourself! You sound like a goddamned girl! He loves me, he makes me happy.. well, what about the rest of the people in your life? What about me? Mom? Dad?"  
  
"I didn't fall for him to make you or mom happy! I did it for me. Don't you think I agonized over how to tell you and them? It made me physically ill to think about it!"  
  
"So you choose that queer over your family, is that it?"  
  
"No! Damn it, Solo, it should not be about choosing! You're supposed to accept me in any way that I am! You're family. I'd never condemn you like this for anything, damn it!"  
  
"Well," Solo says as he gets dangerously close to me, "I'm not you! I never could be because you were always so much better than me! And now look at you. You're.. you're disgusting."  
  
I roughly shove Solo away from me and stand. Yes, I can understand why Solo is acting this way, because, let's face it, I did shock him. And after all, there have been times when I have wondered why it was that I had to love a guy instead of a woman. During those times, I ran from Heero, avoided him, hurt him, but in the end, I was always back with him. I am in love with him. He is in love with me. That is not wrong, that cannot be wrong, I am convince of that if nothing else. Why couldn't Solo see it the way I did?  
  
"I'm leaving," I hear Solo say, "I can't take this shit any more."  
  
"You're drunk, Solo."  
  
"I'll take a bus."  
  
"But," I say as I reach out to stop him, worried that he might do something foolish.  
  
"Don't fucking touch me! You.. I don't know you."  
  
I freeze like he had hit me in the solar plexus. Actually, it may have been more merciful if he had because I don't think it would have hurt this much.  
  
"Solo.."  
  
In all my life, I have never lost anyone close and dear to me. I have always been lucky, not knowing that kind of pain. Until now.  
  
I could only stand there as Solo packed up his things and left without even saying good bye. My brother, my only brother, shut the door to my apartment with a final click, leaving me all alone.  
  
My brother who I have idolized since I was born.  
  
My brother who took on the neighborhood bully with me only to find out that the bully had a bigger, older brother.  
  
My brother who teased me about my first kiss in second grade.  
  
My brother who was always so proud of me, supported me and loved me.  
  
He was gone. He had abandoned me, all because I was in love.


	23. The Twenty-Second Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> bit of angst? but it's okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

To say that my Christmas Day was utter hell would be like saying that Antarctica was cold both totally and completely true and obvious understatements. After Solo left and I drank profoundly more alcohol than I should have, I woke up to nasty, evil Christmas elves hammering away inside of my skull singing merry songs which I later discovered to be the television that I had left on all night. Shortly thereafter was the hangover, the serious depression about the situation with my brother and the need to drown myself yet again in the nefarious fire water.  
  
That was the extent of my Christmas. Of course, I called my brother several times on his cell and his land line, begging, pleading, whining for him to just let me know that he had made it back home in one piece. He never did pick up and so I left him messages, many messages.  
  
I just wanted to know that he wasn’t dead or arrested, but I suppose my sin of having a boyfriend was too great in Solo’s eyes for him to deign to tell me of his well being. Why was I being so paranoid about Solo’s health and legal status? Because I staggered down to the garage of my apartment to arrange for towing his car back to his home when I discovered that it was not there. Yeah, my brother drove off after our drinking screamfest.  
  
Neither of us acted very intelligently, but I suppose that since we were so damned messed up, it should be somewhat excused.  
  
Anyway, back to my crappy ass Christmas.. I did not believe my Christmas could have been any worse than back when I was fourteen and I lit the Christmas tree on fire by sneaking a smoke underneath it, but no, this one beat that one by a long shot. At least back then, my brother stood up for me and tried to lie to our dad about how it was he who had smoked, not me. He had my back then.  
  
Who has it now?  
  
To make matters worse, none of my friends were available for a talk or a rant. They were all off with their respective families, carving the goose, opening gifts and drinking of the nog. There was no way that I was going to intrude upon their happy gatherings to sniffle about my ugly situation. I am a better person than that. But couldn’t any of them have thought of me and called me instead?  
  
And true to form, Heero had gone off with Relena and her family for his torture fest. I wanted to call him all day, just to say something, anything, hear his damned voice for some comfort, but I knew that it would be awkward for him if I had. I did not want to add to his misery with my own.  
  
Although, I must admit, it rather peeved me that he did not call me at all. Heero had been at the dinner and probably could have guessed the magnitude of wrongness that would be perpetrated the moment he left. He knew me, damn it, and knew what telling my brother entailed. He could have at least shown some semblance of concern and called me, even if only for a moment, to make sure I had not ended up in a hospital or in the morgue.  
  
So, there it is, my Christmas in a nutshell. Depression, self pity, bitter anger and complete inability to deal.  
  
I had never been so glad to be back at work the next day.  
  
Since drinking would have driven me to the point of insanity, I chose to drive myself into my work as it was my only saving grace. Despite the fact that none of my psychosis was any fault of my friends or even Heero’s, I was too irrationally angry at them for not bothering to contact me during Christmas to answer their calls. My secretary was left to fend them off with various versions of ‘Mr. Maxwell is in a meeting’ the entire day while I immersed myself deeper and deeper into other people’s problems.  
  
I stayed at my office well past midnight and when I finally got home, I felt tired enough to drift off into sleep immediately. I didn’t bother checking for messages as I usually did, ignoring the possibility that my friends and Heero were worried for me. I was still angry, at them, at me, at Solo. More than that, there was this bone deep depression that just.. well, I stopped caring.  
  
This went on until New Year’s Eve and would have continued if my friends were not the persistent bastards that they are.  
  
Around ten in the evening on New Year’s Eve, I dragged my exhausted self out of the office, lugging my briefcase as if it weighed a ton into the busy streets filled with revelers. People were laughing, running off to some party or another, exuding this sense of happiness and joyousness that contrasted too sharply with my depressed, angry mood. They annoyed me greatly with their sheer exuberance for life, rubbing the fact that I was miserable into my face without even noticing. I almost gave into the urge to swear at all of them and drop them like flies with a semi-automatic weapon.  
  
It was during this sad and bitter trudge home when I was accosted by an angry blond who dragged me into a shiny, red car.  
  
Quatre.  
  
For a moment, there was a thick silence as I sat in the passenger side with a sullen grimace on my face. Quatre had scrambled into the driver’s side as soon as he had shoved me head first into the car, almost as if he was afraid that I would bolt if he was not watching closely. I might have, had I the energy.  
  
I sat and waited for Quatre to get his breathing and the nervous tick by his right eye under control. I knew that I was in for a serious lecture, most likely involving many profanities and slurs about my personality, but I could not bring myself to be grateful for his intervention. After all, where had he been when I had been at my lowest?  
  
“You,” he finally said, his voice nearly shaking with the force of his worried anger, “what the hell is wrong with you?”  
  
Well, if that isn’t a very bad beginning to a conversation, I don’t know what is.  
  
“Quat..” I said quietly, hoping to forestall the flood of words that Quatre was about to bestow upon me. I just was not in the mood to hear anything, whether they be helpful or hurtful. I had finally gotten to a point where the rage and the depression had reached a numbing level. I could not, would not let Quatre make me feel the sharp pain again.  
  
For a while, Quatre just stared at me. He must have seen how dull and dead I looked, heard the lack of anything resembling life in my monosyllabic reply. I did not look at him, preferring to examine my shoes. I heard noises of people walking by the car, vaguely saw the lights from the happily lit storefronts gleaming on the windshield, but I refused to look at Quatre.  
  
“What happened? Why haven’t you called? Oh hell, why haven’t you answered?”  
  
I shrug indifferently to his queries, knowing that it would irritate him. What could I really say at this point anyway? He could not help me now.  
  
“Did..” Quatre trailed off a bit, his face becoming apprehensive, “did you really tell Solo?”  
  
“Yep.” I said, pronouncing each letter of that short word with exaggerated emphasis. I did not want to talk of this right now. I just wanted to be left alone so I could wallow in the absolute misery that was my life.  
  
“It didn’t go well.”  
  
He said it like a statement rather than a question, tacitly conveying to me that he understood how I felt. Maybe he did since Quatre had gone through an ordeal much like mine with his family a while back, but does that make me feel better? Not at all.  
  
“It went.. like a train wreck. A really big, chemical laden train wreck.”  
  
Unfortunately, Quatre did not laugh at my attempt at being humorous in the face of something terrible like losing my brother. Instead, his face filled with a silent sympathy, his eyes brimming over with concern and.. pity?  
  
“Don’t fucking look at me like that!” I screamed, finally turning my eyes fully to his sorrowful face, “Stop it! Why the hell do you care now anyway, huh? Where the fuck were you when I needed you? Having a fucking good time with your understanding family and your goddamned lover, right?”  
  
When I realized just what I had said to Quatre, it was already too late to take those awful words back. I have been told that I had a tendency to speak before thinking when I got angry and I proved that right just then. In all my years being friends with Quatre, I had never, ever said anything so ugly or so unfair.  
  
But damn it, right along side of feeling the tremendous guilt and disgust at what I said was a sick kind of satisfaction for making Quatre feel almost as bad as I felt.  
  
I guess I’m not such a nice guy after all.  
  
The silence was nearly deafening, the echo of my ugly words just barely fading in the car when I decided that I had done enough damage. With a shake of my head and a mumbled half hearted apology, I reached for the door handle with every intention of running to my apartment, locking the door and staying in until Armageddon day. Unfortunately, at that exact time, Quatre started up the car and put it into gear, lurching into sudden motion.  
  
“Damn it, Quat,” I yelled, panic clawing its way up my throat, “I almost had the door open! You could have just killed me there.”  
  
“Well, I didn’t, did I? So shut your trap and listen to me.”  
  
Now, that was rather blunt, don’t you think?  
  
“Look, Duo,” Quatre began as he started maneuvering like a madman between pedestrians and rampant traffic, “I know how you feel. Maybe not exactly, but pretty damned close. It’s never easy having your family resent you for your choice in life, but you can’t just wallow in depression for the rest of your days, okay?”  
  
“Why not? Solo hates me. He said he didn’t know me.”  
  
I felt perilously close to tears after I said it out loud. I kept remembering that look of horror and disbelief on Solo’s face as he walked out of my apartment, maybe my life. It was a look that I had never expected to see from anyone, least of all from my brother. Couldn’t Quatre see that it was killing me to talk about it, to look back on what had happened only a few days ago?  
  
“I know you hurt, Duo,” he continued after a short silence, “but you can’t ignore your friends or Heero. We want to help you, be there for you. Did you know Heero was worried when you didn’t call him during Christmas? Or how frantic he was when you didn’t answer any phone calls? He called me and Trowa to see if you were still alive.”  
  
Yes, Quatre, since it would seem that I was not nearly depressed enough, why not burden me with tons of guilt so I could feel immensely worse about the whole situation?  
  
“Not to mention, we were all worried too. Wufei and Meiran almost charged your office yesterday, you know? They were ready to chain themselves to the door of your office until you talked to them. Trowa and I stopped them, of course, since we didn’t want to see them in jail and we figured you still needed time.”  
  
I shifted in the seat, slightly uncomfortable with the level of guilt Quatre was laying on me. Maybe I could have shuffled out of my deep depression long enough to keep my friends from being crazy with worry. Maybe I could have called them at some point to at least let them know what had happened and how I was feeling.  
  
Oh hell, so I’ve been a first class bastard, but didn’t I have a right to be?  
  
“Anyway,” Quatre blithely continued, “we all decided that today was the day we rescue you from your self imposed depression. It’s New Year’s Eve, a day when the old gets swept away and the new comes in. If anything, today is the day for resolutions and promises, right?”  
  
Then the car comes to an abrupt halt, the brakes screeching and my body going lurching forward towards the dash. With anyone else, I would have been worried at the sudden stop, thinking that perhaps the driver ran something or someone over. With Quatre, I knew that he was just parking so there was no danger. At least, that was what I thought until I looked up and saw not my apartment, but Wufei and Meiran’s house.  
  
“Oh no,” I say, scrabbling madly out of the car, “I am not getting yelled at by the rest of you tonight! I’m fucking going home.”  
  
I had this brilliant plan of getting out of the car and somehow running about twelve miles back to my apartment in my dress shoes and suit, but that plan was debunked when Trowa and Wufei latched onto my arms as soon as I made the exit out of the car. They held on to me as if I would put up a struggle, which I might have had I not been so shell socked, and literally dragged my sorry ass into the house.  
  
I swear, this could have qualified as a kidnapping.  
  
When they had pushed me onto the couch with a glass of bubbly in my hands, they finally relaxed enough to put some distance between me and their vulnerable body parts. I glared at them all ferociously, cursing in a low voice about the whole damned situation and their stubborn love for me.  
  
Eventually, however, all the pressures of the last few days caught up with me, from the terrible good bye with my brother to the depression that had weighed me down. In the face of such unbreakable friendship and love, even I could not put up a decent fight.  
  
I ended up telling them everything that had happened, my feelings about the whole situation and then..  
  
I felt better.  
  
Wonders never cease.  
  
It warmed my heart to see Quatre sympathize with me, to hear him tell me how it would be okay. He didn’t know that and frankly I did not believe him, but I felt better hearing him tell me that in such a reassuring voice. Trowa’s silent smile and encouraging pats to the shoulder did not feel patronizing and Wufei’s indignant stance against Solo for making me feel miserable was well received. Not that I wanted him to hate my brother, gods no, but it was nice knowing that someone was upset on my behalf.  
  
I sound so damned strange, don’t I?  
  
I don’t know when it happened, exactly, but I was feeling like myself again. The depression had retreated and I felt that I could somehow face the world without burying my fool head into work. These guys would be there for me and I knew that with them so solidly behind me, I could face Solo’s disdainful wrath and somehow make it right again.  
  
Damn it all, I was done whimpering about my life.  
  
“Look everyone,” Meiran cheerfully announced, “it’s only five minutes til midnight! Everyone find a kissing partner!”  
  
As predicted, Meiran latched onto Wufei with a grip that jaws of life could not have removed and Quatre and Trowa moved nearer to each other. I instinctively reached out for Heero when I realized that he wasn’t here.  
  
“OH SHIT!”  
  
I got up, sloshing champagne all over my lap as I searched around my pockets for my cell phone. Now that I was feeling human again, I wanted to call Heero, apologize, get him over to Wufei’s, and kiss him on the dot of midnight. And I only had five minutes to do it all.  
  
My friends watched me with a bit of humor in their eyes as I waited for Heero to pick up the phone. I do not want to know what my face looked like when he picked up. I have some sense of dignity left, you know.  
  
“Heero!” I began rather breathlessly, “it’s New Year’s Eve, I’m sorry I’ve been a jackhole about the not calling, even sorrier for making you worry like crazy, I want to kiss you in five minutes, where are you?”  
  
Well, let’s take stock of my fast paced babble. I apologized, not once but twice. I admitted I wanted to kiss him. Not too bad.  
  
Unfortunately, the silence on the other end made me think that perhaps my babble wasn’t as good as I thought it had been.  
  
“Uh, Heero?” I ventured again, vaguely disconcerted by the lack of response, “you okay? I.. I’ll apologize more when you get to Wufei’s, if you want.. ummm.. I.. I missed you, and I want to spend the first day of the new year with you.. because I love you.. you still love me, don’t you?”  
  
And still, the silence. Me, panic? God forbid.  
  
“Heero?”  
  
My friends are looking at me worriedly while the people on the television begin counting down from fifty nine. It was almost time, damn it. If I wasn’t going to kiss him as the first thing in the new year, the least I wanted was him to tell me that he wasn’t angry and that he still loved me.  
  
“Heero?” I say once again, knowing that I sound really dejected, but unable to help it. The countdown continues on television and I feel as if they are counting until the end of my relationship.  
  
There was a slight noise on the other end, kind of like an indrawn breath. I tense up, waiting for the words. Would they be ‘I love you, too’ or ‘I’m mad as hell at you’ or what?  
  
“Who the hell do you think you are?”  
  
Well, out of all the things I thought I’d hear, that had not been one of them. Wait, rewind.  
  
That voice.. wasn’t Heero.  
  
It was a woman.  
  
Oh dear god.


	24. The Twenty-Third Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> warnings: low grade sap, weird talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Apparently, it is a law of the universe that trouble comes in packs, like ravenous wolves or cigarettes. Not only did I ruin my sense of security with my brother, I think I managed to completely annihilate any chance Heero had of having a semblance of good cheer for his new year's. Sure, I never identified myself to the woman on the phone and hung up like my phone was on fire, but my intelligent brain and I came up with some interesting conclusions.  
  
First, that woman was most likely Relena. Second, she most likely did something awful to Heero. Third, he is never, ever going to speak to me again.  
  
Around three in the morning, I went home. Wufei insisted that I stay over after seeing the stricken look on my face after the ill fated phone call, but I had to get out. My friends fell all over themselves trying to tell me that I had done nothing wrong, but that did not erase the fact that I had just outed Heero to his fiancée over the phone.  
  
Quatre and Trowa reluctantly dropped me off and let me bully them into leaving me completely alone. I had to think about what had happened so far. Well, let me see.. I had alienated my only brother, I had ignored Heero for about a week therefore driving him insane with worry and I had just blurted out all sorts of personal business to an unknown woman probably named Relena. So much for starting the new year off on a good foot.  
  
I finally did check all the voicemails that had accumulated during my time of depressed apathy and found that I had forty two messages. Most of them from Heero, but none from Solo. Go figure, I suppose. I had one from my mom wishing me a happy holidays from the cruise and from the sounds of it, she had not heard about my recent case of boyfriend acquirement from Solo. However, it seemed that Heero had not called after my midnight call to his cell. I wondered, therefore, had he received a scathing tongue lashing from Relena or had she opted not to mention that some strange man had called to proclaim his love and his need for kisses?  
  
I shudder to wonder about it.  
  
When the clock on my mantle blinked four in the morning, I decided to get ready for bed. After all, I had spent most of the week brooding about the sorry state of my life and it had definitely taken a toll on me. Then, just when I had gotten back to feeling something other than sorry for myself thanks to my friends, I had to do something that backfired badly enough for me to want to wander back into the pit of depression.  
  
Mentally berating and beating myself up for my earlier blunder, I meandered towards my bedroom dressed only in my pants. I thought about hanging up my shirt and suit jacket, but I was too damned tired for all those niceties. So it was no wonder that I got cranky when there was a knock on my door.  
  
I swore rather savagely as I walked to the door, ready to tear the head off whoever was there on the other side. I had two people in mind, first being Quatre and second being Trowa. I knew they had left too damned easily when I had ushered them off earlier.  
  
"Quat," I said as I unlocked the door and opened it, "go home for Christ's sake! I don't need your babying right now."  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
Well.. slap me twice and call me Susie.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
There he was, just on the other side of my door, standing in my hallway with his hair mussed from the wind and his cheeks slightly red from the chill. He was wearing a grayish sweat shirt that might have been black at one point, well fitting jeans and a leather jacket the color of his hair. He looked so damned good, especially after I had studiously avoided him for so long.  
  
"Hi. Thought I'd.. drop by?"  
  
I can feel a silly grin forming at the corners of my mouth. There he was, my boyfriend, standing there so hesitantly. His eyes were drinking me in as if he had missed me as much as I had missed him, his hands twitching as if he wanted to hold me as much as I wanted to hold him.  
  
Oh, god, what had possessed me to ignore this man?  
  
Idiocy, that's what, and well.. justifiable depression, but really, I had no excuse.  
  
"Come in, okay?" I hear myself say as I step aside in a welcoming gesture. My eyes are so filled with Heero that I almost miss the fact that he is holding a suitcase.  
  
A suitcase?  
  
"I got your message, Duo. And you look great without a shirt. So.."  
  
That's all I get to hear and ponder before Heero latches his lips to mine and propels me backwards into my apartment. My brain shuts down immediately thereafter, only able to process the one needy fact that I finally have Heero with me. His lips were as I remembered them, the indescribable sweetness mingled with tingly passion.  
  
We part to catch our breath and I notice that the door is shut and we are standing in the middle of my living room. It's a wonder that I did not trip over any of my furniture during our blind foray into the room.  
  
"I've missed you, love."  
  
I smile a bit goofily and put my hand on his cheek in a gesture of comforted content. The week of depression had miraculously evaporated at the touch of his lips and I forgot for a moment that I had been miserable, that he had been worried sick. However, I did not forget that he had a suitcase with him which was still gripped in his left hand rather tightly or that I had most likely caused the said suitcase to be packed.  
  
"Uh, so," I begin, guilt faintly coloring my voice, "not that I'm not ecstatic to see you, but.. did Relena toss you out or something?"  
  
At that point, Heero puts down his suitcase and we sit down on the sofa in unison. He has a slightly chagrined look on his face colored at the edges by embarrassment and I can only imagine what might have occurred between him and Relena.  
  
"Well," Heero says softly, "there was a bit of.. tension."  
  
"Yeah, I bet. I'm really sorry about that phone call. And I'm more than sorry about how I behaved.. you know, after Christmas. Which, by the way, went absolutely horribly, thanks for asking."  
  
Perhaps I have not completely erased my bitter depression, if my snipey comment is of any indication. But thankfully, Heero is the understanding, reasonable type.  
  
"I'm sorry I did not call on Christmas. I didn't want to burden you any more than you already were. And please, don't apologize to me, Duo. I understand why you avoided me. I was much worse when I came out. I think my friends almost sent out a search party for me before I got my head together. And don't be sorry about the phone call. It made me happy."  
  
I raise my eyebrows at him, conveying just how much I did not believe him. Had I not just caused a major catastrophe in his life?  
  
"Heero, let me get this straight," I say, still a bit skeptical about his reaction, "you're happy that I blurted out your big secret to Relena who is on her last legs of being alive."  
  
"No, not that," he says in horrified surprise, "the message made me happy, that you loved me and that you wanted to kiss me. How I got the message, though.. but don't worry. Relena is fine, I mean, healthy. She didn't have a relapse or anything."  
  
"So she's just incredibly, flaming pissed at you."  
  
"I'd say murderous rage would be more apt for her current mood."  
  
"Yay?"  
  
We sat in silence for a while, each of us contemplating our lives as it was currently. We were both in horrendous messes, me and my brother being on the non-talking terms and Heero's non-fiancee ready to put a hit out on him. I have to say, ever since we tread into each other's lives, there has been nothing but trouble.  
  
"Hey, Heero," I sigh out, "do you get the feeling that our lives are beginning to resemble a badly written Mexican soap opera?"  
  
I get a chuckle from him and an arm around my shoulders as he pulls me closer.  
  
"Yes, only not in Spanish."  
  
"Good," I mumble as I burrow my head into his shoulder, "because I don't know Spanish."  
  
"Aren't you going to ask me about the suitcase?" Heero says in a whispery voice as I edge closer to him. I suppose I should ask, but I feel so content being snuggled that I don't want to deal with certain things right now. I do know, though, that if we don't straighten out certain things now, it would eat away at me until I did something stupid again.  
  
"Relena kick you out for real?"  
  
"Yes and no."  
  
I peer up at him through my eyelashes at his noncommittal response. I know he can see the questions dancing around in my head, so I need not voice them out loud. Good thing too because I don't think I could have vocalized them very well.  
  
"You see," he explains, "she is very unhappy with me and I am unhappy with her. She demanded to know who the.. uh, person was on the line.."  
  
"I bet she called me something worse than that," I cut in rather smoothly.  
  
"Oh, she called you and me many things that I cannot repeat due to their violent and adult content. That is beside the point, though. She accused me of being dishonest with her."  
  
"Wait," I pipe up, indignant for him, "how could she say that? I mean, you were only there to keep her from dropping dead."  
  
"I knew that, her family knew that, but I honestly don't think she knew that. I think she really thought I loved her."  
  
"Oh. That makes this whole situation even sadder than it already is."  
  
The explanation went on after that, with me interjecting every once in a while with a pithy yet relevant wise crack. To summarize, Heero told me that she screamed at him a fair bit about being a lying cad and refusing to stay with him if he was only there out of some twisted sense of duty and pity. He, in turn, told her that he was quite gay and that he had a boyfriend. She told him to get out, he agreed and voila, here Heero was with a lightly packed suitcase.  
  
Talk about an ugly situation.  
  
"So she knows now," I say, unable to keep the happy tone out of my voice, "so you can be totally open. You don't have to worry! Oh hell, you're here with a suitcase, practically all moved in."  
  
"Yeah," he says, but a little too slowly, "only that.. did I ever mention that Relena's last name is Peacecraft?"  
  
Peacecraft. I recall that name. I'm good with names, it is part of my trade after all, remembering multitudes of names. I ponder silently and try to place the name. Then it hits me.  
  
"Oh shit, isn't your friend Milliardo's last name Peacecraft?"  
  
"Now you see the dilemma as it truly is," he says calmly, "because they're siblings. And I think Milliardo may castrate me for this one."  
  
"That's not even fair," I say, unbelievably incensed, "he met me! And I know that he liked me! Oh, and I know he thought you and I made a good couple. So what the hell can be his problem?"  
  
"A possible dead or comatose sister?"  
  
Okay, Heero had a point there. But still.  
  
"Heero, do you think we're doomed or something? It seems like every time we dig our way out of a problem, another problem even bigger and messier comes along to fuck with us."  
  
God, do I sound tired and defeated. And you know, maybe I am. How am I supposed to keep up with all these developments? Heero had been in my life for a few months now, not even a solid year and our few months have been fraught with more problems than an international trade agreement. Not to mention, we have so far managed to damage our relations with families and friends just by being with each other.  
  
"Sometimes," I say when Heero says nothing, "I think this can't possibly be worth all this trouble. I mean, hell, we haven't even had sex or anything and already we're neck deep in ungodly amounts of shit."  
  
I can feel Heero tightening his hold around me, his arms banding around my shoulders and waist in an unmistakable hold of possession.  
  
"Well," he says, his voice shaking with an emotion I cannot quite define, "if it's sex you're worried about, we can fix that. But whatever the case, whatever the problems, I happen to think you're worth it."  
  
Ah, damn. How could I have forgotten about that talent Heero has for making me feel gooey and mushy inside?  
  
"Fine," I say gracelessly, "as much as I think about all these things, I will say that you're worth it, too. All I have to do is look at you, you sneaky bastard."  
  
"Oh, it turns me on when you call me pet names."  
  
With that, some of the worried tension and my defeatist attitude melts away and we laugh. It's good to laugh with the person you love, when you can feel the laugh rumbling out of his chest like a low grade earthquake.  
  
"So, Relena knows you're gay."  
  
"And your brother certainly knows."  
  
"Neither of them are taking it too well, are they."  
  
We nod in agreement and shrug our shoulders. Yes, there are problems, but as with all problems, they must be taken on one at a time, step by step. No use worrying needlessly and endlessly about them. It is rather amazing how much clearer I think when Heero's around. Well, at least about certain things.  
  
"So," Heero says after we stop laughing, "make any new year's resolutions?"  
  
"No, I don't do resolutions. I never keep them anyway. But I did come to some conclusions."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yep. I'm not gay."  
  
That got me a weird look from Heero and I had to keep the laughter from making a reentrance. Good gracious, how to explain..  
  
"See, Heero, being gay is.. what, being homosexual, liking the men, right?"  
  
I get a bemused nod and I take that as an agreement as I continue.  
  
"And being heterosexual, being straight, is liking the women, right?"  
  
Another bemused nod. So far, so good, I guess.  
  
"And finally, being bisexual is the liking of all genders, sort of non-discriminatory when you think about it, really."  
  
"And your point is?"  
  
I ruffle his hair playfully and give him a small peck on his nose. He looks confused and a bit pissed which only adds to his adorableness at this point in time.  
  
"Point being," I say, "as I am right now, I don't like men, I don't like women, I just like you. In fact, I love you. So, as logic goes, I'm not homosexual, heterosexual or bisexual. I'd say I'm.. Heerosexual."  
  
That gets me a short moment of silence before I am tackled onto my back and kissed thoroughly. And I mean thorough, as in his lips and tongue did not miss a single millimeter of my mouth. It drove anything resembling coherent thought out of my head.  
  
"You," Heero whispers into my lips, "are indescribable. Utterly special."  
  
"I know."  
  
He retreats a little so that we can look into each other's eyes and he smiles gently at me. I can feel my heart stutter and skip a beat. I'm telling you, it's a delicious feeling.  
  
"We'll get Solo, Relena and Milliardo to see that we belong together and that it is right."  
  
Heero said it with such conviction that it made my own resolve strengthen. Maybe we won't get them to see anything other than how they want to see us, but we were not going to give up on each other just because of that possibility.  
  
"Happy new year, Heero."  
  
"Happy new year, Duo."  
  
We sealed it with a kiss and I hope, oh god do I hope, that we can make it work with everyone involved.


	25. The Twenty-Fourth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Most people would say having one's significant other move into their home is a rather pleasant turn of events. I would have thought so too, until I realized just how much of a selfish person I really was.  
  
Only three days after Heero's temporary move in, problems became apparent. The first main problem was that I was not in the habit of sharing living spaces with anyone. Before college, I had my own room, my sanctuary which served me quite well. I had all kinds of personal space when I needed it and had parents who understood my need for privacy. Personally, I think they were just afraid to walk in on me either jerking off or doing indecent things to a girl, but hey, it worked out. Then there was college in which I chased off my first roommate quite quickly to his girlfriend's dorm room and had a single for the rest of my stay there. Then law school provided me with my own place for the first time, a rather dingy apartment then my fancy digs here.  
  
All in all, I have not had the displeasure of living with a roommate at any point in my life. I got used to eating dinner in front of the television in my underwear, walking out of the shower butt ass naked, prancing like an idiot in front of my fridge, you get the picture. Then Heero suddenly has no place to live for a bit and I'm the solution to his temporary homelessness. I was quite happy, thinking that I would enjoy our time together.  
  
Boy, was I wrong there.  
  
He folds his towels, do you know that? After he showers, instead of throwing the used towel into the hamper, he folds it and hangs it back up. Does he not know what kinds of bacteria fester in wet cloths under dim lighting in a warm environment? Then there is the issue with the food. He does not appreciate the fine culinary art that is fast food which I live on when I work as hard as I do. I mean, sure, it'd be nice to indulge in fancy cooking every day since I enjoy it and all, but let's not get fantastical. I'm usually up to my eyeballs in work and time is of a premium. I can't cook all the time, damn it!  
  
Oh, there are more things, and I'm sure I annoy him greatly with the way I live, but Heero is used to living with someone. He's got experience under his skin so that he can live with my little foibles.  
  
I am not so generous.  
  
The biggest problem is probably the fact that I had to give up my second room to him. I certainly wasn't ready to share my bed with him and I didn't want him crowded and uncomfortable on the couch, so I made room for him in my office room. That created a load of problems, since I work in there quite a bit. And when I work, I tend to smoke a bit. Okay, a lot. That bit about me slowing down this habit of mine is a lie of sorts since I can't do anything productive on the computer unless there is a cancer stick dangling from my lips. Sad, but true, what can I say but that I have many vices that have the potential to kill me one day? But you see, Heero is not a smoker and I can tell he hates it so I was forced not to smoke. Nearly drove me insane.  
  
Three days and I was ready to kill him. Does that say anything about the kind of person that I am?  
  
On the fourth day of our living together, I came home grinding my teeth down to the enamel. January, though it may be a slow month for many other professions, is a busy month for criminal attorneys. It has to do with the little fact that most judges take long vacations in December and schedule all the trials in January. I was loaded down with major court dates practically daily and had so much work to do that I began to see paperwork in my dreams. That added on to my current living situation, family problems and otherwise, it was a wonder that my teeth still were there for me to grind.  
  
Suffice to say, my mood was not at its best when I slammed open my door and stalked into my apartment like a starved panther. Unfortunately, Heero was the unsuspecting rabbit in my path.  
  
I have heard from good sources, mainly Quatre, that coming home to find the person you love already there is a wonderful thing, causing many different types of warm and tingly sensations. That was not my reaction, however, when I walked in and found Heero sitting on my couch surrounded by files. Oh, I will be the first to admit how great he looked with his little glasses on for reading, the faintly gold rimmed edges giving him that sexy, intellectual look, but damn it, it was my couch, my place, my space.  
  
It was mine and I felt like I had been invaded by the local unfriendly alien. And when he raised his head and smiled beautifully in welcome, my heart turned to lead in my chest instead of fluttering like it should have.  
  
"Duo," he said in a very warm tone, "you're late. Hard day?"  
  
Hard day. Let me see, there. I was in the office by seven in the morning for preliminary work, was in court from nine until four during which I missed lunch due to prepping a witness, and had paperwork until eleven. At current time of a wee bit after midnight, I was tired, wanted a shower, quick greasy microwave food and sleep.  
  
And there he was, looking tasty and great, offering me comfort and contentment. He was the devil.  
  
Perhaps I should realize that I'm not being entirely rational. Perhaps I should cut Heero some slack because nothing is really his fault. Perhaps I should let go of my selfish needs and not resent him for being in my living room, sitting on my couch.  
  
But no, I just want some.. space.  
  
"Heero," I grind out through my clenched teeth, "don't take this the wrong way, but.. I gotta go."  
  
That was more intelligent than just blowing up at him for no reason. So I tossed my briefcase down, turned around and left. I didn't even turn to see if he was hurt or surprised at my curt departure. I needed room to think, to be alone.  
  
So of course, I go to a bar.  
  
I went to my favorite, the Tornado Fodder, and took a booth in the corner. I ordered scotch, neat, hell with the ice, and seethed. For the love of god, what was wrong with me? Did I not love the man? Had we not come through worse things than living arrangements? Why was it that the little things were driving me mad when there were other things that I should have been worried about?  
  
Around one or one fifteen, who knows, but it was during my fourth glass of scotch, a very familiar person slid into the booth with me, drink in hand.  
  
"Quat," I greet, "is it just that you have a Maxwell misery meter? You have this knack for showing up whenever I'm feeling like shit."  
  
He shrugs and sips his drink like nothing was amiss. Then he looks at me straight in my eyes and lectures me.  
  
"Heero was worried, so he called. That's getting to be a habit for him, don't you think? Something eating at you today, again? I swear, Duo, you have the biggest problem just communicating with him."  
  
Well, don't I know it? But being an intractable bastard is what I do best when I'm feeling miserable. I had just wanted to come home and collapse onto the bed, moaning like the pitiful creature that I was, but no, I had been faced with a caring boyfriend who had waited up for me.  
  
Oh yeah, I concede that such a situation would not irk most people, but I'm Duo Maxwell. I can be as irrational as they come sometimes.  
  
"Quat, I just wanted some space, you know? Some alone time with my misery. I don't know how the hell you live with Trowa so well, every day."  
  
Quatre lifted one blond eyebrow nearly to his hairline at my comment.  
  
"So well? What the hell are you talking about? Did you know that he uses the dishwasher as a drying rack for clean dishes? I can never tell what the hell is clean and what isn't! Drives me batty."  
  
"Really," I say in a bit of surprise, "so you have problems living with someone, too? It's not just me?"  
  
"Duo, everyone has problems living with someone. It's not easy putting two people under the same roof, what with all the differences they have."  
  
"So you're telling me I'm not being an idiot."  
  
Quatre snorted and rolled his eyes, giving me the distinct impression that he had implied no such thing.  
  
"I'm being an idiot then?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Quatre says without sympathy, "big time idiot. But that can't be helped. We all act like idiots sometimes, it's our nature. Anyway, I'm telling you little things will happen and they will piss you off. The best solution is to talk it out and compromise a little."  
  
Did Quatre just say compromise? As in give in, give up, let it go, go with the flow, et cetera?  
  
"Blondie, compromising isn't really my style."  
  
"Well, it's going to have to be if he's living there with you."  
  
"But," I whine, much to my chagrin, "it's only temporary!"  
  
Then it hits me. Heero's only living with me until he finds a place of his own. It is not like he and Relena can make up with each other or anything since it'd be plain wrong and I'd have a seizure if they moved in together again. I had forgotten in my fit of nitpicking through the difficulties of living with someone that Heero wasn't going to be there forever.  
  
Now, the question then is, does that bother me? The fact that Heero was only a guest of sorts in my apartment, that he did not have his little knick-knacks all over the place, that he did not have his clothes hanging side by side with my suits? Honestly, I can't say. After all, I'm still whining about the living situation.  
  
"Yeah, temporary," Quatre responds with a nod, "so how hard can it be to swallow your own needs for a few days? Don't you ever plan on moving in with him permanently? This could be your trial period."  
  
Well, I suppose Quatre has a point there. I think I plan on moving in with him one day, don't I? Isn't that where every serious relationship goes one day? You date, you fall in love, you share space and shampoo. I think that's the way of things and everyone else seems to fall within the pattern one way or the other. Unless you're Wufei, in which case you move in together, then date then fall in love. If they date at all, that is. Wait, I'm going way off topic, but that's what my brain does when it is thinking too hard.  
  
"So you're telling me in your esteemed opinion, I should go back, apologize yet again, and then work shit out."  
  
Quatre gives me a pat on the head like a patronizing kindergarten teacher and shoos me off. Literally. All I can do is roll my eyes, resist the urge to stick out my tongue and trudge off home to see if there is a way for me to explain my strange behavior to Heero. Goody.  
  
When I get home, all I do for about fifteen minutes is stand outside of my door, staring at it as the hands on my watch creep ever closer to two in the morning. I haven't the slightest clue as to what to say to Heero, if it merited an apology at all, or if I should just pretend I had a mood swing and let it go at that. I mean, hasn't Heero and my relationship so far been nothing but a series of making up after stupid shit we do to each other? Besides all the talking, kissing, groping, talking, laughing.. Okay, I get the damned point.  
  
Finally, I open the door and step into the apartment, only to find Heero still sitting on the couch, wide awake and looking rather tense. I suppose I'm responsible for that, Heero being less than happy.  
  
"I'm back, Heero."  
  
He doesn't look at me, but nods at my voice. I stand with my back against the door, still wondering what to say, when Heero speaks.  
  
"You've never lived with anyone, have you?"  
  
I chuckle. I can't help it.  
  
"That's obvious, right?"  
  
Heero finally looks at me then and there is a gentle light in his eyes and a slight curve to his lips.  
  
"Very much so. So, what about me gets on your nerves?"  
  
I walk towards him, my lips mirroring the small grin on his face.  
  
"Many, many things. But I think we can work them out."  
  
Heero scoots over on the couch, making room for me. I sit next to him and stare into his blue eyes and realize that although there are little things that send me to the brink of homicidal rage, in the end, I love him too much to let it truly drive him away.  
  
"There are things you do that make me wonder if you're human," Heero says with a rueful grin.  
  
"I want you to stop putting the toilet seat down."  
  
Heero laughs genuinely, the sound lifting my miserable self up considerably.  
  
"Well, Duo, after living with a woman for so long, it had become a habit. After the first time she fell into the toilet and yelled at me, I just.. well, I'll try to remember to leave it up."  
  
"Atta boy," I cheer, "so what do you want from me?"  
  
He thinks about it for a while, tilting his head this way and that, as if I had asked him about the state of the nation's finances.  
  
"I want you to stop leaving leftovers in the fridge. You never eat them and they start moving in there."  
  
"Easy enough," I reply, and from there, we have a good conversation about exactly what irks us. The talk goes on for a while, but there is no complaining, just talking things out. We concede, compromise and in the end, agree on a few things.  
  
Sure, we won't be having a blissful time of it for the time Heero's here, but in the least, we won't bottle it up until it explodes. Heero will give me some space, I will give him some space. Living together does not mean being with each other all the time, you know? Everyone needs privacy, even from the one they love. Perhaps, most from the one they love.  



	26. The Twenty-fifth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083
> 
> warning: incoherency. watch out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

January passed, February came. Heero moved out in the beginning of February to his new apartment to which I helped him move, and I was back to living like a bachelor in my bachelor pad. That is not to say I didn't miss Heero's presence there, but I was very relieved to have my place back to myself. I guess I wasn't really ready to live with anyone, but I take comfort in the fact that Heero and I made it work reasonably well. Sure, it wasn't like a well oiled machine or anything, but after our talk, we hadn't had any major blow outs.  
  
That aside, Heero and I got along wonderfully. We talked whenever we had the chance, which didn't seem to be too much sometimes, and we were progressing further and further along on the physical side. I wasn't ready yet for the full, absolute all out kind of physical intimacy yet, but we were edging closer to it daily. Not to mention, highly frustrated on the sexual level, but that's part of the fun. Unless you were my balls, in which case you cursed me to high heaven and back on a daily basis.  
  
So, it was with our physical relationship moving forward and Heero having his own place that it hit me. Near that day of monstrous pink, the day everyone calls Valentine's day, I realized that I had not given Heero his Christmas present. After the mess of Christmas and the ensuing month of strange situations, he and I had totally forgotten about the gifts we had for each other. Oh, I remembered to ship the gift I got for Solo some time in January only to have it sent back almost immediately, but I had forgotten Heero's entirely.  
  
You'd think for that month he was living with me, we would have remembered, but no. The only thing that reminded me that I still had that wrapped gift in my closet was the fact that I began contemplating what to get him for Valentine's day.  
  
So my dilemma was this _\--_ do I pass off the Christmas present as a valentine's day gift so that I could avoid shopping yet again or did I go through the pains of searching the heavens and earth for yet another perfectish gift? Gah, as if I did not have enough problems staring at me in the face.. only now do I realize that there so damn many holidays that you have to get your loved significant other a gift.  
  
Maybe I could get Heero something for his new apartment, kind of like a house warming and Valentine's day gift. Apparently, Relena had not relinquished much of anything when she had kicked Heero out of their apartment. Heero had about three pots, I think. Maybe a set of sheets that could pass inspection at the local homeless shelter. It wasn't that he did not like the finer things in life, it was just that he had problems buying them. My boyfriend was not a shopper in any sense. I think he hated it more than me which is saying something.  
  
However, little things like having an apartment that was so bare that the walls glared off sunlight like the mirror did not matter to Heero much. These days, he was just about getting his life back on track and soothing Milliardo down. Yes, Milliardo had understood the situation between Heero and Relena and had tried to be understanding, but it was hard for him. How could a caring older brother be calm and cool when his baby sister called him up almost once a day to cry over her broken and betrayed heart?  
  
Therefore, it was quite near Valentine's day when Heero and I decided to have a comprehensive and informative conversation about what the living hell was going on in our lives. Sure, we were definitely beating a very dead and decomposing horse with our planned conversation, but so what? Sometimes it helped to overkill on a topic in order to come to a solution of sorts. Besides, I had that Christmas gift problem still and I wanted to give it to him without causing too much of a fuss.  
  
The talk, for some inexplicable reason, was at Heero's place. We had a bottle of chardonnay, a cheese plate and some good liver pate laid out on the floor of his very sparse apartment. Why the floor? He had yet to get a coffee table. Or an end table. Hell, he had no tables. He had no chairs. He had a bed, which was good for him, and a television set that looked as if it dated back to the moon landing. Again, I had to wonder how he had managed to live like this for nearly two weeks without going insane.  
  
"Heero," I said with a mouthful of cheese, "I know you're a big fan of Spartan, but this is ridiculous. I know people in prisons with more shit than you."  
  
"I thought we were going to discuss how to fix our relationships with people we cared about, not about my extreme lack of furnishing."  
  
There was a tinge of laughter in his voice, but I couldn't let it go with good humor. Nobody should live like this.  
  
"Yes, we will do the talk, but Heero, look around. You've been here nearly two weeks. It's not that much trouble to buy a couch, is it?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Heero replied, "after all, I had thought that the couch I had at my old place was the last couch I was ever going to buy. But Relena refuses to hand it over."  
  
"Divorces are more civilized," I mumbled unhappily, "and they split stuff up. Shouldn't you and Relena at least discuss the separation of property?"  
  
"Sure, we should. But it's hard to have a proper discussion about who gets the couch and the doilies when one of the parties is too busy crying and cursing."  
  
I sigh in exasperation. How long did it take to get over someone, really?  
  
"Man, Heero, it has been over a month since she found out. Don't tell me she's still pissed at you."  
  
"Well," Heero said thoughtfully, "they say it takes half the time you were with your boyfriend to get over him."  
  
I wave my hand at him to continue, but he just crunches up his eyebrows in thought.  
  
"So? How long have you two been.. uh, together?"  
  
"As close as I can determine it, Relena has thought I loved her for.. ten years."  
  
Ten years? Jesus on a stick, that's longer than most marriages!  
  
"So you're telling me," I say, not keeping the incredulity out of my voice, "Relena won't be rational about you for five years?"  
  
"As nearly as my mathematical skills tell me, yes."  
  
Huh. That's just so absurd that I don't know what to say. I mean, sure, getting over someone is hard, but really, was it that hard? Then I think to myself, how long would it take me to get over Heero if we ever did break up? How long would it take me to stop loving him? After all, I've only been with him for a few months now and we hadn't even had sex. According to his math, I should get over him in about four months or so, but would I really get over him in that time if we broke up right now?  
  
"Doesn't seem so unreasonable, does it?" Heero says to me, his eyes lit with an understanding. He gets it. He understands why Relena is the way she is, why getting his things from her aren't so critical. After all, he still cares about her and feels truly bad about the whole situation.  
  
"Poor girl," I say, really feeling for her, "you are pretty hard to forget, I guess."  
  
"I'm glad to know."  
  
We share a small laugh and munch on more cheese. I suppose we are talking about what is wrong with the people in our lives. Or rather, what went wrong with them.  
  
"So, Heero, how long does it take a brother to get over his little brother's sexual orientation switch?"  
  
"I wish I knew," he replies in all earnestness, "but there does not seem to be a math for that. I'm sorry Solo is still upset with you."  
  
I shrug. I suppose I can't help it, you know? Solo feels the way he feels. I feel the way I feel. The only thing we can do is meet half way, but neither of us really knows the road or the direction. My brother and I.. the way we feel about the current situation isn't even on the same map.  
  
"Hey, it's not as bad as Relena hating your guts. You lost her and your relationship with Milliardo is strained. It can't be easy on you."  
  
Really, there isn't much to say after that. Sure, we wanted to have a deep talk about our problems, but the problems themselves aren't really that complicated. They are simple and therein lay our greatest obstacle. Simple problems were usually the hardest to solve.  
  
"So," Heero says suddenly, "I thought we should have a romantic Valentine's day."  
  
If he wants to change the subject, who am I to argue?  
  
"We should," I say, "and who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky."  
  
I smile slyly at Heero, sending a much used seductive leer at his direction. My seductive leer looks somewhat like this: my violet eyes become a deep shade of purple, half hidden by my heavy lids, my lips quirk in a half grin that invites a kiss and my head tilts at a slight angle to show off my neck. Girls used to go nuts over the leer when I used it on them and I used to get a surge of sexual power. When used on Heero.. I get a sharp and penetrating sense of desire, hunger and raw energy. Why? Because he looks at me as if I was the only person on earth, as if he wanted to sink his teeth into me.  
  
"Lucky," he whispers huskily, edging closer to me, "would be good."  
  
I'm still looking at him with seduction written all over my face, but it's no longer the practiced look I used in flirting. No, now it is a genuine one and it is reflected on Heero's face as well.  
  
Here we are, sitting on the hard wood floor of Heero's bare apartment with a snack tray between us, staring at each other with a lazy, fiery seduction lighting our eyes. I don't even know what is keeping us from jumping on each other, except that..  
  
Anticipation. That moment before the act of desire. That electric sliver of time filled with intense longing, hot fires of passion. The breathless wait just before the contact, the thudding of hearts in syncopated rhythm..  
  
When our lips do touch, it's an explosion. An overflow of lust and love, mingled with a need so desperate that it transcends mere touching and kissing.  
  
For a while, we forget about Relena, about Solo, about gifts and Valentine's and everything else. We forget that there is no furniture, that there are no curtains. We only know what our lips feel, our fingers explore.  
  
For a long, long while.. there is just Heero, me, and our desire.  
  
It's rather too bad that it does not end with naked bodies and sweaty pumping bodies. But then again.. maybe it's that anticipation thing.  
  
What it does end with is two extremely excited men trying to catch their breaths on the cold, hard floor. I notice that I am without a shirt and Heero has somehow managed to get his sweater caught around his throat.  
  
"I think I'm going to have some serious groin pains."  
  
Heero laughs throatily and licks my collarbone. I can't help the moan _\--_ hell, I'm so aroused right now that it's a wonder that the little Duo who is not so little, by the way, isn't jumping out of my pants.  
  
"You should just let go of your issues and sleep with me."  
  
So says Heero and I have heard worse suggestions. But I'm not ready yet. Honestly, you'd think if I'm this turned on and my body is reacting this violently to his touch, I'd be crazy stupid not to jump into the sac with him.  
  
"I should, and I definitely will," I say, running my hands up and down his bare torso, "but not tonight. I swear, I'm not trying to be a tease. I hate that."  
  
Heero buries his head in my throat and laughs. His laughter rumbles against my throat and sends a pleasantly warm tingling down my stomach to my already rock solid erection. I don't mind, not really. It's a good feeling, if you like pain alongside your pleasure.  
  
"I know you aren't a tease," he says as he rocks his hips against mine, "but I can't help but suggest every now and then that we just.. fuck each other stupid."  
  
"Oh, we will. I will definitely make your IQ drop to the levels of the local politicians one day. But I'm not quite ready to face the fact that you only have one place I can go."  
  
He laughs some more than levers himself off my and sits a bit away. That is a wise move, of course. Had he stayed on top of me, who knows what the hell I would have done?  
  
"I can wait."  
  
"Thanks, Heero. So, you want your Christmas present?"  
  
Well, that came out of nowhere, but I needed to say something to keep my hands off him, right?  
  
"Christmas?" he replies with a tilted eyebrow, "wasn't that a while back ago? You know, when everything went to hell?"  
  
"Yep," I say with aplomb, "but you see, I never gave you your gift. I spent days agonizing over it and you never even got it. Bummer, right?"  
  
"I never gave you your gift either, did I?" He says with sudden understanding.  
  
"Nope. So you want it or should I just turn it into your V-day gift?"  
  
"You wouldn't cheat me like that, would you?" Heero asks with mock hurt in his voice which sends me laughing.  
  
"Sure I would! I'm an attorney, aren't I?"  
  
We share a good laugh and wait for our desires to lessen. We take the time to rearrange our clothing and settle into the comfortable feeling before talking to each other again. It is getting harder and harder to deny myself and Heero the extreme pleasure of sexual gratification, but I'd rather not regret it by doing it too soon. After all, Heero isn't someone I'm going to leave in the bed in the middle of the night. He's special, don't you know?  
  
I wander over to my jacket after our desires abate somewhat, fishing out the nicely wrapped gift out of the pocket while Heero retrieves something from his bedroom. When we are seated on the floor from across each other once more, I hand him his belated gift and he hands me mine. With a wonder that I haven't had for opening gifts since I was a child, I unwrap the blue and silver foil off the box and discover..  
  
An anime DVD I had not had a chance to buy. My eyes light up and my lips tilt in a maddening grin. I had only mentioned this title in passing, very casually, only once long in the past. He had remembered. Damn, he's good.  
  
For his part, Heero carefully undid the gold trimmed wrapping on his gift to fish out a small, crystal figurine. He holds it in his hand and turns it every which way, letting the light refract off it in rainbows.  
  
"It's a bird." I say, my voice suddenly a bit nervous when he says nothing.  
  
"It's a hawk in flight, the lady said. You know, how the wings are spread and all that."  
  
I babble on and on about the quality of the crystal, the workmanship some overpaid Swiss guy put into it, the exquisite detail of the wingspan.. You get the picture. I'm stopped in the middle of my rambling by Heero's lips suddenly on mine, sucking out my breath and thought.  
  
"You.." Heero says quietly after he's done kissing me breathless, "you remembered. "  
  
Yeah, there's a story there. Once, before I even acknowledged that I liked Heero, during that fateful trial, we had had that single talk. You know, while I was prepping him for the witness stand. He had said, somewhere between clinical analysis, that if there was one thing he really wanted in life was to fly free. Like a hawk in flight.  
  
So there it is. We both remember little things about each other. Things so damned trivial and little, yet.. they mean so much. Put in that light, the problems with Relena and Solo.. they aren't so grandiose. They aren't so hard to overcome or fix. Because if it is so easy for us to remember and do the little things right, it can't be that hard to do the big things.  
  
That's the logic, right?


	27. The Twenty-Sixth Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by 0083

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Spring is perhaps my favorite season, warm without being humid, pleasant throughout with flowers blooming on every corner. I love the pink of the cherry blossoms, the joyousness of the yellow forsythia, the rising blooms of daffodils.. okay, stop me before I turn into a home and garden magazine.  
  
Anyway, I love spring. Even with the sudden cold snaps that send all of my senses into whirling pitfalls, I love the season. I can practically smell the air warming, feel the buds rising out of the grounds, et cetera. Too bad I live in the middle of an urban center and I hardly get to see anything resembling plant life, right?  
  
So, spring hit my city with a gentle breeze, carrying the scent of flowers in the air. I felt relaxed all the time, the spring fever without the maddening need to procreate hitting my nerves every time I stepped outside. I wanted to float around doing nothing, just sitting on a park bench absorbing all that was spring instead of working my bones to grinding death.  
  
If wishes could be horses.. then we would all be eating horses, right?  
  
Oh, maybe not. I have heard that horses taste rather nasty. Do not ask how I heard, how I know. Some things should be kept secret.  
  
So, March was the beginning of spring for me, in more ways than in just the weather pattern. Heero and I entered into a peaceful time as well, our relationship blooming healthily despite all the inconveniences caused by some significant members of our lives. We also got closer to having the sex each day which was a relief to me I was beginning to doubt if I would ever be ready for it.  
  
I suppose my reluctance had a lot to do with the fact that I am a virgin in respects to having sexual encounters with other males. Imagine it for just a second. Here I am, having had sex many times over many years, getting used to it being a certain way with only women, trying to figure out the interlocking procedures involved in an all male relationship.. but I digress.  
  
Quatre and Trowa tried to advise me on the whole sex thing, Quatre being a bit more frank than was polite in company. On occasion, Trowa would suggest that he draw me some diagrams and perhaps build me a working model of the situation. I do believe my friends are teasing the hell out of me, but if you can't make fun of your friend and his sex life, then what is the use of having friends at all? It is rather karmic anyway, since I used to tease Wufei endlessly about sex, seeing how I was always off getting laid in college while he tried to wait for the perfect woman to come along.  
  
As I was saying, spring. Work was still hell, but the brimstone quality of it was tempered by the nostalgic atmosphere bred by the season. I found myself daydreaming about what Heero and I did, would do, should do. I resembled a teenager in the blooms of his first love, staring out into space at inopportune times, losing entire trains of thought. If I was not so happy with Heero, I would have seen how entirely pathetic I was. In a good way.  
  
But such feelings does not last forever, because springs are notorious for their sudden showers, shifts in weather and my life followed that pattern closely. How shall I phrase what kind of a craphole into which my life decided to plunge except to say that one fine day, as sudden as a spring snow storm, I got the most disturbing visit at my apartment.  
  
There I was, innocently smoking one of my last cigarettes in the pack, working through a terribly unorganized box of discovery sent over to me by the prosecutor's office, when there was a knock on my apartment door. I was being quite industrious on Sunday, having brought a lot of work home. Hell, I had even asked Heero not to come over this day so that I could finish work without distractions. But there it was, the distraction, in the form of a knock on the door. Grumbling inaudibly, I forced my legs to unfold from their painful position and wobbled to the door, ready to whip out a whole load of frustrated curses on the unfortunate soul who had decided to convert me to Jesus or sell me cookies.  
  
Alas, there was no religiously dedicated Mormon nor a overly cheerful girl scout on the welcome mat of my door. No. There was a lady, dressed in a very tasteful and expensive Prada suit, and wearing a pair of shoes that I'm sure cost the amount of a small country's tax deficit. She had her blond hair curled into a sedate chignon at the base of her neck and was decorated with understated but pricey jewelry. All in all, she was the picture of a proper, debutante ball kind of a lady.. that is, until I looked into her quite enraged and steely blue eyes.  
  
"Can I help you?" I asked, slightly confused by her presence and more than annoyed about the interruption.  
  
"Yes," she answered in a cultured voice, modulated just so to make it sound like a command rather than a reply, "you may help me by dropping dead."  
  
Well, that's not very cheerful. Or nice.  
  
"I see. Do you happen to be related to one of my clients?"  
  
Yes, that is a very valid question in my line of work. I have no idea how many hit lists my name must be adorning at this very moment because of past clients, but I can hazard a guess and say it is in the higher fifties.  
  
"No," she said, her nose in the air, "but then again, you can't guess who I am, is that it? You are not as intelligent as I had heard."  
  
Several things click at once. The hostility, the genteel façade, the expensive clothes, the blond hair..  
  
"Relena. Nice to meet you."  
  
Hah! I said that with a straight face, you know that? No hint of sarcasm either. Okay, I don't hold anything against the girl, because she had been duped by her entire family, friends and Heero for so long, but still.. I'm not perfect, I had jealousy issues, remember?  
  
She walked into my apartment without an invitation, but I wasn't about to physically remove her either, so I had no choice but to close the door and face her. Really, I had not actually thought that I would ever meet Relena, especially after she had kicked Heero out of her life, but here she was, pretty as a porcelain doll, standing in my living room with a very scary look on her face.  
  
Good thing I'm used to dealing with hostility and murderous vibes.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, ever the polite host. I had to admit it to myself, I'm rather good at pretending as if nothing was amiss.  
  
"You wouldn't put cyanide in it, would you?"  
  
She sounded so utterly serious and suspicious that I had to laugh. Did she spend her time reading cheesy ass novels where the evil woman (or in my case, man, definitely man) infused the coffee with a deadly poison so that the former lover could be offed in a tasteful manner? I really ought to buy her some Capote.. she might get better, if not more gruesome, ideas.  
  
"Sorry, fresh out. Used the last batch last week on a particularly nasty client."  
  
At this point, I think she realized how stupid she had sounded because she blushed the shade of pink that clashed with her lavender suit. Then she sat down on my couch, still uninvited but who is caring, and faced me with a slightly miffed look.  
  
"I apologize," she said, her voice carrying a bit of a rueful pout, "I'm not usually so.. catty. It's just that, well, I came here on an impulse.. and I have no idea why I'm here at all."  
  
I gave her high points for honesty and bravery. Here she was, facing me, most probably the last person she ever wanted to meet, and she had yet to throw things at my face. She is doing much better than most people.  
  
"Hey, I understand. If it makes it easier, I have no idea why you're here either."  
  
I know I shouldn't be attempting humor in this case, but I can't help it. One of my best defenses in a tense situation is humor, even if it is out of place. Defense mechanism is an automatic reflex, you know?  
  
"It's just that I really hated you," she intoned in a very calm voice, "and I had to see if you were an awful person."  
  
I see. I suppose it would make it easier if I was some ugly bastard who somehow brainwashed Heero into the relationship.  
  
"The thing is, I really loved Heero. For a very long time. I never imagined a future without him and then.. he tells me that he's gay and he has been for the longest time. He tells me that he stayed with me out of pity, not out of love. He tells me that he's in love with you and that everyone knew! It was humiliating, mortifying. And yet.. still.."  
  
Oh shit, this is when she begins tearing up. Her blue eyes no longer held anger, filling up with frustrated sadness and betrayal. How the hell do these things happen to me?  
  
"I hate you," she continued, her voice warbling with unshed tears, "more than I hate Heero, because if it wasn't for you.. he'd still be with me and I wouldn't know all these things. But that's not fair of me and I know that it isn't, but I can't help but hate you. I'm an awful person! And so are you! Heero is the worst! No wait, my brother is! Oh damn it, everyone is awful!"  
  
Yep, that's when she burst into full fledged crying, her face buried in her tea serving hands still sporting a diamond ring on her left hand ring finger. I felt even more sorry for her than I did before. I wanted to help her out, so I sat next to her on the sofa, patting her shoulder awkwardly.  
  
"Oh. Hey," I tried, I really did, "it's okay.."  
  
Crying females is not my thing. I have no idea what to do with them. I don't know whether to offer them tissues or joke with them to stop their crying. Especially in this case! This was Relena, Heero's ex-fiancee, the girl who stirred up trouble just by being mentioned! And she was crying on my sofa, sounding incredibly broken and dripping tears the size of cantaloupes. What am I supposed to do?  
  
It got even more complicated when she buried her face in my chest and gripped my shirt for dear life. I was about a millisecond from panicking, but I held back. I didn't want both of us to be freaking out at the same time, because it would have caused more issues.  
  
"See," she hiccoughed and stumbled, "I.. I still love.. and he sucks.. you do, too.. can't believe this happened to me! I.."  
  
From there, it degenerated into incoherent mumblings, between the sobbing and the hitching breaths. This was a situation I never had imagined. Relena, crying on my chest, lamenting about her broken relationship with Heero.. the only thing that could have made it any weirder was if Solo was currently crying on Heero's shoulders.  
  
As Relena continued to soak my shirt, I realized something. Relena, of course, still loved Heero, you can't turn that off like a drippy faucet. She probably didn't want to, not after what she had been through, but she still did. She loved him so much, but in the end, it had not been returned. It had never been returned and she had found that out in a very painful, humiliating way. She had vented her rage at Heero, cried her sorrows to Milliardo, but she had needed someone to hate desperately, to blame someone for this unbelievable fact of her life.  
  
I was the obvious choice.  
  
The poor girl. I can't fathom the pain she must have been in for the past three months, trying to come to grips with a simple fact that her life for the last ten years had been built on lies. I love Heero to death, I would never let him go, but at this moment, I was getting angry with him all over again. He could have ended it for her way before this, been truthful about who he was to her and let her move on with her life. But he had used that feeble excuse about her not being well.  
  
Wait, she's not well. Oh crap, what if she passes out or something!  
  
"Uh, Relena," I said, trying to keep the mounting worry out of my voice, "Heero said that you weren't well.. this can't be good for you, right?"  
  
That got her going on the ranting mode again.  
  
"Heero, that idiot! And Milliardo, too! And my goddamn parents! I was not THAT sick, for the love of god! They should have told me ages ago, but no, they had to protect their weak, innocent little girl! They are all idiots!"  
  
Well, I can't argue with her there, can I? Haven't I told Heero that he should have let her know? As soon as she finished that short rant, though, she went back to making my shirt into a damp rag.  
  
To think that I was jealous of her.. sure, I had every right to have been angry at Heero, but I should never have held Relena responsible. I mean, she was a victim, too, wasn't she? All the important people in her life had lied to her for half of her life. What did that say? Sure, they did it because they thought it was for her best, so that she would not relapse into the throes of her disease, but I honestly don't think that should justify this at all.  
  
This being the crying girl in my arms.  
  
"I don't understand," she said, her voice muffled in my very wet shirt, "why none of them thought I was strong enough. Have I been that weak? And why am I here, of all places, with you, of all people, crying? Why am I crying on you? What do you care?"  
  
Even so, she does not remove herself from me. Instead, she lifts her head to stare at me in the eyes.  
  
"You.. you are a good looking guy."  
  
I smirk slightly at her, raising one of my eyebrows.  
  
"Heero loves you."  
  
I nod, my chin nearly bumping into her forehead, but she does not notice.  
  
"I hate you, you know."  
  
"Yeah," I sigh, "I know. You have the right."  
  
"You hate me, don't you?" She asks rather accusingly.  
  
"Nah, I don't. None of this was really your fault, right?"  
  
She merely looks at me a bit longer before she replies. Tough and thoughtful girl, she is.  
  
"Partially, it is my fault," she finally says resignedly, "because I really would have done anything to keep Heero with me. Even if I had known, maybe I would have continued feigning to be very ill to keep him. As long as I could."  
  
Honest, too. She's not so bad, Relena Peacecraft.  
  
"But I still hate you. And I think I will need something to drink."  
  
Yeah, she did. Crying all those tears must have dehydrated her. Hell, it drained me.  
  
After she drank some water, she stood up, gathered her purse and got ready to leave. At the door, she paused for a moment and turned to me, her face an interesting study of various emotions. I suppose she is very embarrassed at having cried on me like that, not to mention the things she said, but she faces me with dignity.  
  
"I'll have to hire someone to kill you if you tell anyone I was here."  
  
I expect no less. I suppose I'm on yet another hit list, but for some reason, I do not mind it so much.


End file.
